


Animus

by groovymutation



Category: Assassin's Creed, Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Steampunk, Victorian era, bad language
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-09
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 20:33:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 28,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5679787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/groovymutation/pseuds/groovymutation
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Animus - (def) Hostility or ill feeling. </p><p>A pair of siblings flee Oxford to London after the death of their mother. One, a kind hearted young girl of 21 who see's the good in the world, the other a rough and ready brute of a man who see's the world for just what it is. When the revolution peaks and Sebastian joins Moriarty's crusade on London, Elizabeth is left alone and helpless, that is until Jacob Frye makes an appearance and Evie discovers some secrets about the Moran siblings that even they had no idea about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> My first Assassain's Creed fic with a little crossover and a little Steampunk. I thought Moriarty would make a fantastic Starrick and that perhaps later on Irene Adler would make a perfect Pearl Attaway. 
> 
> The character list will probably grow the more that I write it!
> 
> I hope you all enjoy it :) 
> 
> Victorian slang in the first chapter:  
> 'Got the morbs' - an 1880 phrase that indicated temporary meloncholy  
> 'Half-rats' - partially intoxicated

It was a meek, overcast day as Elizabeth peered out of the broken, half boarded up window. Her elder brother, Sebastian, lay curled up in a corner sleeping off the last of his rum induced stupor while on the floor below the two young children she’d taken under her wing bickered and argued like young children so often did.

Her skirts glided against the floor as she passed her brother, leaving him in his drunken state; it was his own stupid fault anyway, the cut on his cheek would scar but at least the Blighter that had glassed him paid with his life.

The elder gave a whine as she passed but she paid him no mind. She lifted her skirts as she descended the stairs to see the children.

“Stop it!” the little girl yelled as the elder boy chased after her. “Stop pulling my hair!” 

“Toliver,” Elizabeth scalded as she cleared up after them; the place was a shambles anyway. “Stop pulling Mary’s braids, she doesn’t like it.”

“Sorry Miss Moran,” Toliver mumbled as she knelt before him. “Was only havin’ a bit of fun.”

“It’s not fun for Mary,” she answered him, wiping a smear of dirt from his face. 

She’d done all she could for these two children, they lived in the building when she and Sebastian had moved in with what little they had and she couldn’t bare to kick them out. They were dirty and starving so she’d fed them and clothed them and loved them both like they were part of their small family. 

If they weren’t here they’d be in some filthy factory somewhere working their poor little bodies to death. 

“Where’s Mister Moran?” Toliver asked. “He were meant to take me to the Thames to see them steam boats.”

“He’s sleeping,” she answered him, pulling his shabby jacket tighter around him. “But I’ll take you instead. I want to go to the markets anyway. Would you like to join us Mary?”

Mary, the younger of the two, wandered over fiddling with one of her braids, the one that Toliver had pulled.

“Please, Miss,” she smiled. “I like seeing the horses.”

“Well, alright then,” she smiled as she tided up the girls braids. “Come along.”

The home they had wasn’t much of a home. It was two floors of bare wood, cracked walls and broken windows with the odd candle here and there to light up the gloom. The children slept better than the siblings, sleeping on old blankets by the warmth of a small fire that Elizabeth lit each and every night while the siblings slept on nothing but dry straw with threadbare blankets.

Leaving Sebastian in his corner, Elizabeth grabbed her basket, fastened her bonnet and pulled the moth eaten lace shawl across her shoulders before she shooed the children out of the front door and followed after them. 

The streets of Southwark were crowded with people, the roads busy with carriages and deliveries. Mary pulled on Elizabeth’s hand and pointed to a grey mare stood by the road as the driver helped his passenger into the carriage.

Elizabeth smiled and tugged her along and as they reached the corner to cross the road, Elizabeth pulled Toliver back before he walked right into the path of a Blighter.

“Better keep that little sod under control Miss,” he tipped his bowler hat in her direction with a wicked smile. “Or else he’ll be in Moriarty’s factories, young lad like him will be sought after.”

“He’s a child,” she answered him with a firm grip on Toliver’s jacket as both children looked up at the man in his red plaid jacket. 

“They’ll pay you good money,” he said, looking her up and down. “Pretty young miss like you could buy yourself some decent clothes. Run along now or else there will be bother.”

Elizabeth moved quickly away from the man and only slowed when they were at least two streets away.

“Who were he Miss Moran?” Toliver asked. “He dint look very nice.”

“He’s a bad man Toliver,” Mary answered as Elizabeth looked back in the direction that they’d come; why were Blighters in Southwark? “And you almost upset him.”

“I dint!” Toliver answered, reaching out to grab Mary’s braids.

“Children, don’t bicker,” Elizabeth pulled them apart. “Toliver, yes he is a very bad man, you stay away from people who are dressed like him, do you hear me?”

“Yes Miss,” he answered. 

Toliver was the eldest of the children at the age of twelve, while Mary had only just turned eight last month. 

“Come along now,” she gave him a sweet smile. “You wanted to see those boats.”

\---

With her things from the market, Elizabeth walked with the children to the very banks of The Thames where Toliver giddily looked out at the vessels on the water as they chugged along, spewing out great dark clouds from their funnels. 

“Miss ‘Lizabeth!” Mary tapped her on the shoulder and pointed up, jumping up and down where she stood. “Look! Look up!”

Elizabeth lifted her head, glancing skyward to see the hull of the city’s biggest airship, The Phantasmagoria. They didn’t fly too close to where they lived, they tended to stay to the main parts of London, flying up and down Thames with cargo that was too large for the boats. 

“Is ‘Bastian going to be okay ‘Lizabeth?” Mary asked, sitting beside Elizabeth who’s eyes were scanning the crowds before them; Blighters were everywhere, they seemed to outnumber the constables. 

“Is he Miss?” Toliver asked, sitting at her other side. “Only, he dint look too grand when we left. Has he been out at the Horse and Wagon again?”

“He’ll be fine,” Elizabeth answered patting both children on their knees. “He’s half-rats with a bad case of the morbs.”

Both children snickered at Elizabeth’s change of tone; she was usually a well spoken young lady and tried her best to pass that on to the children, but sometimes she’d pick up the slang on the streets and use it to entertain them.

“You promise, Miss?” Toliver asked when he’d stopped smiling.

“Cross my heart,” she smiled, mimicking the action.

“What’s going on over there?” Mary asked, standing on the wall on which they sat to crane her neck to see. “I think they’re fighting.”

Toliver climbed over Elizabeth to see a crowd gathering and then Elizabeth saw the Constables pushing people out of the way to get the centre of the crowd.

“Let’s go children,” Elizabeth said, pulling them from the wall. 

“But…” Toliver put up a slight fight, his bottom lip jutting out. “That mans got a knife and everythin!”

“Now, Toliver,” her voice was stern.

“’Bastian would let me watch,” he grouched as she hurried them away. 

“Then ‘Bastian and I need to have a few choice words,” she answered him. 

She kept the children close as they walked back towards Southwark, there were significantly less people about on the streets than there had been that morning and she spotted the unmistakable red of the Blighters jackets as they drew closer to home. 

The same one that had bothered them in the morning grabbed a hold of Toliver on the way back.

“Sure you don’t wanna sell him Miss?” he said, holding the child tightly as he looked Elizabeth up and down. “Pretty penny could dress up that pretty body o’yours, maybe then you’d be the posh bird that you are instead of walking about in them dead ‘orrible rags.”

“Let him go,” she said firmly as Mary hid behind Elizabeth’s skirts. “Please.”

“Here’s me thinking you posh ‘uns were beneath beggin,” he said, pulling out a blade and holding it to Toliver’s throat. “Go on, beg some more, I’m enjoyin’ this.”

Unbeknown to the Blighter, the children and Elizabeth a hooded man was peering over the edge of the rooftop above them, waiting to make his move. He’d been watching this one all morning, crooning at women and scaring the children, but this woman, these children, something was different. 

From where he perched he couldn’t see an inch of fear on her young face but he saw the fierceness in how she protected those two children. And they couldn’t be hers, the boy was at least ten years old, the little girl younger but not much, the woman couldn’t be in her thirties. 

He deftly moved down the building, window ledge by window ledge eventually landing a few doors away from where the scene was as to not cause a distraction. He pulled down his hood, replacing it with a worn looking top hat as he strolled up the street.

“I believe the lady said to let him go,” he said as he approached. 

“Or what?” the Blighter sneered. 

The man looked at the younger girl and crouched down as she peered out from behind Elizabeth’s skirts. 

“Look at her,” he said gently. “Look at her and don’t look away, do you understand?”

Mary nodded quickly and stared up at Elizabeth who looked at the man who nodded to the girl. As if she understood, Elizabeth turned her back to the Blighter and knelt down in front of Mary who buried her face in her shoulder as the man made light work of the Blighter and returned Toliver to Elizabeth’s side. 

“Was there need for the violence?” Elizabeth asked as she looked Toliver over; there was no cut or mark on his neck and for that she was relieved. 

“I saved the boys life,” the man looked stricken. “I believe a thank you is in order.”

“You killed a man,” Elizabeth said, keeping the children behind her so they didn’t see the blood or the body. 

“He’s a bloody Blighter!” the man gestured to the crimson clad corpse. “He would have killed you Madam.”

“ _Miss_ ,” she corrected him. “And you are?”

“Mister Frye,” he answered, removing his top hat to bow most ungracefully. “Jacob Frye. And who do I have the pleasure of meeting? Because you seem to be an uptight bird that’s fallen to the bottom of the cage.”

He gestured to the slums of Southwark around them, she spoke well and held herself with a grace that none of the other working class around here had. Unfortunately for him, Elizabeth didn’t see his words as kind.

Within seconds, Jacob’s cheek was red and stinging where Elizabeth’s hand had come into contact with his face and he was left dazed as she marched the children up the street and out of sight.

“No thanks and not even a name,” Jacob grouched to himself as he stalked off, his face hot and sore as he rubbed it. “Bloody women.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Why’d you hit that man Miss Moran?” Toliver asked as she shooed both the children back into their chilly home. “He helped us dint he?” 

“Upstairs, now,” Elizabeth directed them. “Go find ‘Bastian.”

The children scurried off leaving Elizabeth by the door as she untied her bonnet and removed her shawl. Toliver was right the man, Mister Frye, had helped them but in a most unjust way but the Blighter was being unjust too.

Elizabeth furrowed her brow, gathered her skirts and took her basket of things up the stairs to find the children and her brother. To her surprise Sebastian looked a lot better and now sat at a small shabby table in the corner as the children spoke to him.

“We saw the Phantasmagoria!” Mary exclaimed with a big smile. “Over the Thames, ‘Lizabeth took us to the markets.”

“No, she took me to see the boats!” Toliver argued. 

“Children,” Elizabeth sighed. “Please. Come put these things away.”

Toliver scuffed his shoes against the bare wood floor but obeyed as Sebastian ruffled his hair in passing. Elizabeth gave the basket to Toliver and went and sat across from her brother who was running a large, calloused hand through his dirty blonde hair. 

“And how are we feeling this morning dear brother of mine?” Elizabeth asked with mirth in her voice. 

“Perfectly fine my ever loving sister,” Sebastian flashed her a grin as he folded his large arms on the table top and looked at her. “You look flushed, did something happen at the market?”

Sebastian’s brow knitted over his perfectly bright blue eyes as Elizabeth looked at him in admiration. He was their protector, the one that kept the three of them safe. He was a big man, standing at 6’2 he dwarfed his little sister who stood at a proud 5’4 and he terrified most of the other people who lived around them.

He didn’t dress like a gentleman, not in the slightest. As he slouched back in the chair awaiting an answer to the question he’d asked, Elizabeth studied him.

A grubby white shirt adorned his torso, the sleeves rolled up at mismatched angles, the cuffs an off-white and coloured with jet black fingerprints where he’d pushed them back up. A waistcoat sat over that, a steal of a find really in that third hand shop just up the road; it was pure violet with black flowered embroidery and silver buttons, but Sebastian never buttoned it up. His slacks were patched here and there with off black and grey pieces of fabric; Elizabeth had lost count of how many times she’d fixed them and his feet were covered by knee high, heavy black leather boots with silver buckles all the way up to his knees. 

“Well?” Sebastian pushed, now leaning forwards with his chin in his right hand and a somewhat bored expression on his face.

“A Blighter,” Elizabeth answered, meeting her brothers blue eyes. “He got hold of Tolvier on the way back, put a knife to his throat.”

“Where is the bastard?” Sebastian jumped up, feeling about his waist for his pistol. 

“It’s alright,” Elizabeth stood and laid a hand on one of her brothers large arms. “A man stepped in to help, Toliver is quite alright.”

Sebastian passed a look to the children who were unloading the last of the things from the basket with smiles on their faces before he looked down to his younger sister. 

“Lizzie,” he said softly. “I don’t like you going out there without me, things are changing, the revolution is happening.”

“I have to be able to take care of myself,” she protested. “Do not back me into a corner Sebastian.”

“It is not your place to fight Elizabeth,” he countered. “You’re a young woman, you should be-”

“Getting married, finding a husband,” she retaliated. “So someone else can look after me so you don’t have to.” 

“That’s not what I meant Elizabeth,” he answered. “The streets are no place for a woman of your age.” 

Sebastian was still feeling about his waist for his pistol but it wasn’t there; it was with Mr. Bell in Whitechapel. Without further word, Elizabeth marched away from him into another room and slammed the door behind her. 

There was a leather chest in the corner containing all the clothes she and Sebastian had. Her brother had two other waistcoats, a few shirts and a pair of trousers. Elizabeth had three other dresses and that was it. 

She changed from her house rags into a midnight blue day dress, pulling a small matching jacket over the top that buttoned up to cover her shoulders and chest. She tided up her hair and attached a small hat adorned with feathers to her head before she pulled her horribly worn boots back on, gathered up her dress and left the room. 

“Where are you going?” Sebastian demanded as she walked through the room. 

She ignored him and walked straight to the children. 

“I’m going to visit Mr. Bell in Whitechapel,” she smiled at them fondly. “Stay here with ‘Bastian and be good alright? I’ll bring you something back, I promise.”

On her way out, she took Sebastian’s coin bag, hurried down the stairs and found herself back out on the street. With her skirts swaying against the pavement, she flagged down an Adler bus and headed out towards Whitechapel to collect her brothers beloved pistol. That’d show him; she wasn’t afraid of the streets, she could take perfectly good care of herself. 

\--

She paid the driver at Whitechapel and exited the carriage right outside Mr. Bell’s shop. The streets were quieter around here and she walked with a little more ease than she did in Southwark.

A charming little bell rang above the door when she entered, but no one was in the front of the shop until Mr. Bell hurried out with a smile across his face.

“The pistol, right?” he smiled at her, his voice holding a thick, Scottish accent. “For…?”

“Sebastian,” she smiled at him with a graceful nod. “Mister Moran.” 

“Come on through,” Mr. Bell smiled and led her through a red velvet curtain into the back where three other beings were stood around. “I fixed the mechanism but I’m afraid there’s little I can do for the aesthetics.”

“He’ll just be pleased to have it back,” she answered, peering at the pistol on the table where Mr. Bell had clearly just been working on it. 

“I just got to put a few pieces back together and she’s all yours,” Mr. Bell smiled. “Feel free to wander at your own leisure.” 

“Did I hear the name Moran?” one of the other three behind them spoke in an accent that was most uncommon in London, but not uncommon to Elizabeth’s ears.

She turned, her skirts swaying against the floor as she came face to face with an old friend.

“It’s been fifteen years my good friend,” he gave her a wide smile and brought her into his arms with a tight hug. 

“Jayadeep,” she gave him a sweet kiss on the cheek. “Not the child you once were and not the man you ought to be, Mr. Green.”

She gave him a knowing look and Jayadeep looked at his feet with a smile before looking back to her. 

“What brings you to Whitechapel?” he asked. “Last I knew you were still in Oxford, perhaps looking for a husband?”

“You sound just like Sebastian,” she said, shaking her head with a slight smile. “Mother passed, the house was sold and we had nowhere to go. We got nothing, Sebastian and I live in Southwark now.”

“I’m very sorry Elizabeth,” Jayadeep bowed his head. “Your mother was a wonderful woman.”

“And what are you doing in Whitechapel?” Elizabeth asked. “I thought perhaps you might have gone back to India.”

Elizabeth had forgotten about the other two in the room until Jayadeep looked over her shoulder and beckoned them over. 

“Miss Moran,” he smiled. “Meet Jacob and Evie Frye, the wise and wild Frye twins.” 

“Is that what they call us Greenie?” another familiar voice said. “I believe we’ve met _Miss_ Moran.” 

Elizabeth blanched at the sight of Jacob and cleared her throat before scowling in his general direction.

“Amongst other things I’m sure, Jacob,” Jayadeep answered him. 

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Evie held out a hand to Elizabeth which she took and shook warmly. “It’s nice to put a face to a name, Henry has told me stories about you and him as children.”

“None too embarrassing I hope,” Elizabeth smiled at Jayadeep who shook his head with a smile of his own.

“And I don’t get a warm greeting?” Jacob asked, faking a pained expression. “You wound me. After I saved your child too.” 

“You have children?” Jayadeep looked genuinely shocked, even Mr. Bell looked up from his work with surprise. “And more than one?”

“They aren’t my children Jayadeep,” she corrected Jacobs words with another scowl as he gave her a cocky look. “They lived for lack of a better word, in the house Sebastian and I moved into. I couldn’t bare to see them on the streets or taken to a factory for work, so they stay with us. I feed them and clothe them as if they were my own. Toliver is twelve and Mary is nine. Mister Frye saved Toliver from a Blighter this afternoon.”

“And she slapped me across the face to say thank you,” he gave her a sardonic smirk as Evie and Jayadeep looked between the pair. 

“Then perhaps you shouldn’t have called me an ‘uptight bird’,” she answered and Evie rolled her eyes at her brother.

“See Jacob, you’re never the victim,” she said, shoving him playfully. “I think that slap was rather deserved. I think you should apologise to Miss Moran.”

“Elizabeth, please,” she smiled at Evie. 

“Say you’re sorry, Jacob,” Evie taunted. 

“She slapped me across the face,” he said, giving his sister a deadpan look.

“I’d wager she’ll give you more than just a slap across the face if you don’t behave yourself,” Evie said as she walked to the front of the shop with Henry following behind, bidding a quick farewell to Elizabeth.

“I don’t think you could give me more than a slap across the face,” Jacob walked closer to her, towering a good half foot over her. “For one, you’re too small and for another, I wouldn’t say you’re strong enough.”

“Looks can be deceiving Mister Frye,” Mr. Bell muttered from where he worked. “She’s a wee tough one is Miss Moran. You oughta see the size of her brother.”

“I do not hide in my brothers shadow,” she smiled at Mr. Bell. “Perhaps you should ask your sister about the stories Jayadeep told her. Get to know me before you start making any _rash_ decisions, Mister Frye.”

“It’s ready.”

Mr. Bell stood and placed the pistol into Elizabeth’s hands. She took it and held it like she was no stranger at all to weapons. She aimed the pistol towards the window with a one handed hold, closing one perfectly green eye to aim.

Not that Jacob had noticed the colour of her eyes of course. 

Her stance was rigid, her arm steady and her trigger finger hugging the trigger, ready to pull at the right given moment. 

“She’s perfect Mr. Bell,” Elizabeth lowered the pistol to her side and returned a sweet and friendly smile to Mr. Bell which Jacob noticed made him blush. “Sebastian will be most pleased.”

“You’ll have to let me know how he finds it,” Mr. Bell said as Elizabeth pressed some coins into his palm. “Don’t be a stranger here Miss Moran, Mr. Green is usually about the place.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Mr. Bell,” she smiled. “Thank you again.”

As they were talking, Jacob had removed his gauntlet for Mr. Bell to look over; the spring loaded mechanism for the concealed blade was jamming at the most inconvenient moments. As he laid it on the table, Elizabeth looked over the beautiful handiwork; the gorgeous black leather and the golden detail and Jacob watched her eyes light up as she looked over the gauntlet. 

“Have a pleasant day,” he said taking her hand; her brow furrowed but she didn’t pull her hand away as he pressed a kiss to her knuckles, the scruff on his chin brushing against her skin. “ _Miss_ Moran. I’ll be sure to ask Greenie about those stories.”

“You do that,” she said pulling her hand back to gather up her skirts before she curtseyed. “Mister Frye.”

With a smile to Mr. Bell, Elizabeth turned and walked through the velvet curtain into the front of the shop before the two men heard the chime of the small bell to indicate that she’d left.

“A wild one that one,” Mr. Bell smiled as he made a start on Jacobs gauntlet. 

“That she is Aleck,” Jacob peered into the front of the shop. “That she is.”


	3. Chapter 3

That night, Sebastian disappeared back out again leaving Elizabeth to put the children to bed. The house was quiet and lonely and she could hardly bare it. Checking that the children were asleep, she gathered up her blue dress that she still wore and left the house for Whitechapel. 

Whether Mr. Bell would still be there was another story entirely, but he had told her not to be a stranger and that Jayadeep was usually about the place. 

She walked part of the way there in a fog that seemed to roll down the dark streets. Blighters laughed on every street corner, taunting passers by and trying to start fights. Once she reached the boarder of Whitechapel, she caught a carriage to take her the rest of the way and once more paid the driver handsomely when she arrived.

Mr. Bell was still open, a faint lamplight coming from inside and when she wandered in, Jayadeep was sat behind the counter with Evie at his side, reading over some sort of text. 

“Elizabeth,” he gave a smile but the surprise was in his voice. “What brings you out so late?”

“Eight o’clock is hardly late, Jayadeep,” she smiled wearily; she was tired from the walk. “The children were asleep and the house was quiet.”

“No company from your brother?” Evie asked, strolling around the counter. 

“My brother and his fists prefer the company of the pub up our street,” she answered. “He hasn’t been the same since we left Oxford.”

“How long have you been here?” Jayadeep asked. 

“Two years,” she answered.

“Have you practiced in those two years?” he asked, his brown eyes looking her over.

“No,” she shook her head. “You know Sebastian never liked it and with the children, it is next to impossible.”

“Nothing is impossible,” he smiled as Evie gave him a puzzled look. “Tomorrow I want you to go with Evie and Alexander, he has a favour to ask. I want you to see to it that they meet no trouble, understood?”

“Jayadeep I-”

“I have faith in you, Elizabeth, we trained together,” he placed a hand lovingly on her shoulder. 

“You’re an assassin,” Evie gave a terse nod in her direction. “I knew there was something about you.”

“Her mother wanted her to train, Sebastian as well, but the elder dismissed the teachings and went his own way,” Jayadeep explained to her. “Their father was an assassin, but he hasn’t been heard of for…”

“Years,” Elizabeth finished. “But no matter. I’ll gladly help you tomorrow if you can promise me the children will be safe.”

“Jacob will fetch them,” Evie gave a slight smirk. “He does love children after all. We have a train, I promise you they will be safe there. I look forward to your company tomorrow Miss Moran.” 

“And I yours Miss Frye,” she answered. “But I can’t fight in this dress or any of the dresses I have.”

“I’ll sort it,” Jayadeep smiled. “Miss Frye, perhaps you’d care to accompany Miss Moran back home and tell her about tomorrows mission on the way?”

“Gladly,” Evie smiled. “Come along.”

\---

At first light, Elizabeth was out of the house in her rags and at Whitechapel by the time Big Ben struck 8. 

When she arrived at Mr. Bells shop, both the twins were there along with Jayadeep. Evie stood with Mr. Bell going over some plans and Jacob stood in a corner looking over his gauntlet. 

“Good morning _Miss_ Moran,” he said, tipping his hat. “Couldn’t keep away, eh?”

“You have a mission this morning Jacob,” Jayadeep turned towards him. “You are to fetch the two children under Elizabeth’s care and take them to the train hideout.”

“Whatever for?” Jacob’s brow furrowed.

“Because Miss Moran is aiding your sister and Mr. Bell today,” Jayadeep answered. “Agnes will take care of the children while you carry out the rest of your duties.”

“And what help is she going to be?” Jacob looked Elizabeth up and down as he spoke. “She looks after children and her brother; she has no skills.”

Within seconds of Jacob saying what he had, he was on the floor with Elizabeth’s knee close to his groin and the heel of her hand waiting to slam into his nose. 

“There you go with your presumptions again Mister Frye,” she said. “I have had assassin training, I trained with Jayadeep. We trained together as children and though I may be slightly rusty, I did just put an assassin on the floor so I would think very carefully about what you say in the future, Jacob Frye.”

She stood and allowed the assassin to get up before he brushed himself off and met the smirk of Jayadeep. 

“You’re an assassin as well are you?” Jacob gave a slight smile. “We’ll see how good you are.” 

“Go get the children, Jacob,” Jayadeep patted him on the shoulder. “Nurse your wounded ego on the way over there.” 

With a scoff, Jacob marched out of the shop and made his way over to Southwark, leaving Elizabeth with Jayadeep and Evie with Mr. Bell. 

“I managed to find something in one of the vaults here in London,” Jayadeep led Elizabeth into the back where an outfit was laid over one of Bell’s workspaces. “I hope it will suffice, I’ll leave you to change.”

With a nod, Jayadeep left the room and Elizabeth picked up the garments. There was a shirt and a pair of trousers, a pair of knee high black boots with a slight heel and a pair of long black leather gloves.

But the items that caught her eye the most were the long leather coat with the red quilted breast, the beautiful black and silver gauntlet with the hidden blade and the crimson cape that hung from the right shoulder. 

After she’d pulled on the outfit and secured the gauntlet, she strode out, pinning up her hair so it was out of her way.

“You look like you were meant to wear that,” Evie complimented her. “You look wonderful, I’m glad for the extra help. I want you to take a carriage on your own and drive ahead, Mr. Bell and I will follow behind.”

“Got it,” Elizabeth smiled. 

“Then lets go.”

\---

It was an uneventful trip to Parliament and Evie did the work when they arrived, leaving Elizabeth to protect and defend Mr. Bell in her absence. Once she had done her work, the three of them road back on the same carriage and left Mr. Bell at his shop after he’d thanked them both.

“I’ll take you to the train,” Evie said as they climbed back on the cart. “You and the children are very welcome to stay, though your brother….”

“Can stay exactly where he is,” Elizabeth answered her. “The children don’t need to be around that every day, it isn’t fair.”

“Very well,” Evie nodded as she stopped the carriage. “The train should be in the station. 

Elizabeth jumped down and followed Evie through the station, some people stopping to look at the pair in their almost matching outfits. 

“Henry and I have some work to do,” she said as they reached the platform where the train was. “You’re more than welcome to annoy Jacob or Agnes though, or if you’d prefer, you can be with the children. Perhaps Jacob will take you out and show you the ropes, that is if you’d like to stay with us.”

“I would,” Elizabeth answered as they boarded the train. “I want to help the City, it’s what my mother would have wanted.”

“Jacob’s at the opposite end of the train,” Evie patted her on the back. “Have fun.”

With Evie going left to find Jayadeep, Elizabeth went right and wandered down the carriages until she got to the end and found Jacob lazing in the chair telling a story to a captivated Toliver and Mary.

“You didn’t lose my children then, Mister Frye?” she asked as she closed the compartment door behind her.

“Miss Moran?” he questioned unsurely.

Jacobs eyes wandered over the leather attire, noticing how it clung to her curves and how the harsh black brought out the paleness of her skin and the brightness of her green eyes. He'd assumed her hair under her bonnet would be blonde, but it was a rich, deep brown and twisted into a style that was pinned to her head. Even Jacob couldn't deny the fact that she looked a damn sight better in these clothes than those huge silly dresses.

“Mister Frye,” she said with a teasing tone as she folded her arms across her chest. "What's the matter? Don't you recognise me?"

“Not without your pretty dress, _Miss_ ,” he raised one eyebrow and removed his top hat, setting it aside as the children looked at her.

It was Elizabeth's turn to study Jacob now that she could see his face properly. There was a scar above his right eye and stubble on his chin, but he had the most beautiful hazel eyes that she'd ever seen. He smiled at her crookedly as she watched him run a hand through his dark hair before his chin rested in his hand, his gauntlet safely removed and put to one side less he accidentally released the hidden blade and had a little mishap.

“Where’s ‘Bastian ‘Lizabeth?” Mary asked, rousing her from her thoughts. “He didn’t come home.”

“He drunk again Miss?” Toliver asked.

“Yes, Toliver,” she nodded. “He's half-rats again. Did Mister Frye take good care of you? Did you say thank you?”

“Yes ‘Lizabeth,” Mary smiled with a yawn. “We did.”

“Perhaps,” Jacob placed his hat back on. “We should leave them to sleep. Fancy a walk, love?”

“A walk where?” she questioned, dismissing the 'love' on the end of the sentence. “We’re on a moving train.”

“Oh ye of little faith,” Jacob smirked and moved to the compartment door, opening it up to reveal nothing but the track. “The train moves slowly enough, I’ll catch you.” 

“Let me put them to sleep first,” she said, once more ignoring the flirtatious charm. 

Mary climbed into the bed that was covered with a blanket and proper cushions and Elizabeth was glad they finally got to see a proper bed for once in the short little lives.

“Where you goin’?” Toliver asked as he too settled down.

“With Mister Frye,” she answered. “But I promise I’ll see you later.”

“Where is your dress, Miss?” Toliver asked. “You look different.”

“All in good time, Toliver,” she said before sweetly kissing his forehead. “I want you to stay here alright? Agnes will take care of you and Henry and Evie are up front. But it’s bedtime now, you need to sleep.”

“Will you find ‘Bastian?” Mary yawned. 

“I will,” Elizabeth answered, tucking the covers around her. “I promise.”

In no time at all they were both out like a light and Jacob was holding the door open for Elizabeth to stand on the ledge. 

“You’ve had assassin training,” he smirked. “Jump. It’s easy.”

“If it’s so easy,” she glowered at him. “You jump first.”

Jacob shrugged his shoulders and jumped from the ledge onto the tracks, taking a few steps to steady himself as he landed. 

“Your turn,” he grinned as the train moved slowly away. “I’ll catch you love, come on.”

Elizabeth didn’t need catching and when she jumped, she tucked herself into a roll landing gracefully beside Jacob before she stood back upright.

“I don’t need catching, Mister Frye,” she smiled, brushing herself down. “But I do need a drink.”

“Then lets walk to the pub,” he said nodding to the right. “Race you down the bridge, last down buys the drinks.”

“Deal,” Elizabeth grinned.

In a flash she’d sprinted by him and swung herself over the bridge, leaving Jacob behind her cursing under his breath.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> toff - (derogatory term) a rich or upper-class person.  
> courtesan - a prostitute, especially one with wealthy or upper-class clients.

The pub they went to was called The Crown and Anchor and it was a quaint little place located on a corner. 

Jacob had been the one to lose, but only just; Elizabeth could move a damn sight faster than he could down walls that was for sure. 

As Elizabeth picked a table, Jacob picked the drinks, paid and sauntered back over before handing one to Elizabeth as he sat down across from her. He watched her eyes wander the place; by the bar was a piano where a middle aged man played a tune for a woman beside him to sing along to.

Elizabeth’s lips curled into a somewhat content smile as she turned back to face him, his eyebrow raising involuntary as he folded his arms on top of the worn table. 

“So,” he began, his voice low as he leant over the table. “If you’re an assassin, why didn’t you give that bloody Blighter what for when he got hold of Toliver?”

“Because of peace, Mister Frye,” she answered. “I would never have been left be.”

“A fair point, Miss Moran,” he gave a nod. “And when will we stop with these formalities, eh love?”

“Perhaps when you start to become a gentleman,” her own eyebrow cocked, her lips pulling into a slight smirk. “ _Mister Frye._ “

“No danger of that happening anytime soon,” he countered her smirk with his own before he took a drink of his rum and set the tumbler back onto the table. “So tell me the story.”

“The story?” she asked, taking a drink herself. 

“Your story, Miss Moran,” he said leaning over the table causing Elizabeth to recline slightly. “The story of how the sweet, innocent Oxford girl came to be sitting in a lowly bar in Assassin’s garb in the bloody middle of London.”

Elizabeth seemed to think on his words for a moment, taking another drink in the process as Jacob watched her actions like a hawk, waiting for the story to fall from her perfectly pink lips. 

“My mother,” she said simply. 

“That’s not a story,” he said. “That’s an answer. Explain it to me, I’m curious; you intrigue me Miss Moran.”

Elizabeth couldn’t decide whether that was a good thing or not with the devilish smirk that had flourished across his lips and caused the corners of his beautiful hazel eyes to crinkle; damn him for being so horribly handsome.

“I lived in Oxford all my life in a beautifully large house sat in its own grounds,” she began to explain. “My parents had money; mother and father were assassins, but father disappeared when I was born, he hasn’t been heard from for a long, long time. So long in fact we presume he’s dead. Mother would never speak of him, but she pushed training onto Sebastian and I; she wanted us to be able to defend ourselves. Now Sebastian loved mother, adored her, but he wouldn’t take on the training. He didn’t want to be an assassin, he didn’t know what he wanted at all.”

“But you did?” Jacob’s head was tilted ever so slightly to the side as he listened. 

“Yes,” she answered simply. “I enjoyed the training. I always kept on top of my educational studies; mother was adamant about that, that a lady should have an education and not just a bloody good pair of fists. She always said that fighting made you frightening, but knowledge made you dangerous.”

“And what about Greenie?” Jacob said as he stood and swung his chair around, his legs now either side of it with his feet on the floor and his arms crossed against the high wooden back as he spoke. “Where does the training with him come into it?”

“My mother knew his mother and they would stay some summers,” she smiled, remembering some memories from a long time ago. “Jayadeep’s father would teach me certain things that even my mother didn’t know and he would pit Jayadeep and I against one another so we learnt how to fight properly.”

“You hurt one another then,” Jacob said. 

“Terribly,” Elizabeth took a drink from her tumbler. “But it’s how we learnt.” 

“And what of your brother?” Jacob queried, watching as she toyed with the gauntlet on her right arm. “Where was he when you were training?” 

“I don’t really know,” she shrugged. “When he got older he frequented the fight clubs and gambled a little; he didn’t ever like me training.”

“Why not?” he questioned.

“Because a lady shouldn’t fight,” she scoffed, finishing the liquid in her tumbler. “If Sebastian were to have his way, I’d be married by now to some wealthy toff.”

“Then you’d rather be married to a brute? A proper man?” Jacob’s eyes flashed with mischief but Elizabeth rolled her eyes and folded her arms. 

“I’d rather not be married at all,” she gave a smirk. “Where’s the fun in that? Having to be chaperoned to make sure one behaves like a lady and most certainly does not go around talking to other ladies husbands? There’s no fun at all in that now is there Mister Frye?”

Jacob gave a bark of a laugh, a low rumbling sound that seemed to come from his feet and it made Elizabeth crack a smile.

“I can‘t decide whether you‘re a lady or a courtesan or perhaps both; what a marvellous thing that would be,” Jacob threw her a wink and rested his chin in his left palm, looking at her folded arms. “All joking aside love, I shouldn’t deter you away from the story; what happened to your mother?” 

Elizabeth allowed herself a laugh at Jacob’s comment, she was beginning to warm to the cheeky twin as much as she’d loathe to admit it.

“Mother got sick, Smallpox,” she answered with a dry throat; it still hurt to talk about it but it was better to explain now rather than later. “We weren’t allowed near her, not even after she’d passed. They were concerned that Sebastian and I would contract it. She didn’t survive, she struggled to breathe a lot of the time. We couldn’t hug her or kiss her, we couldn’t touch her. She died alone in the middle of the night with no one by her side; we didn‘t even see her before the undertaker came.”

Jacob’s jaw tightened as Elizabeth looked at the top of the table, her left hand clasped in a tight fist.

“They couldn’t find mothers will,” she carried on after a few moments, daring to meet the hazel eyes of Mister Frye. “So the estate and everything within it was sold, some to the public, some to dealers. Everything we had, everything that should have been mine and my brothers, it was gone. We had nowhere to go and nothing but the clothes on our backs and a few pounds. The house we live in isn’t ours, it’s just empty. Sebastian wins money from some fights; half of it goes to me, the rest he keeps for himself. It is not a way to live, Mister Frye, barely scraping by.”

“And yet you have two small children in your care,” Jacob half tipped his hat towards her. 

“They are children,” she simply stated. “And children they should be. Not workers, not starving, not cold or homeless. But children. Another?” 

She gestured to the empty glass and Jacob gave a nod, watching as she picked up the tumblers between her fingers and set off towards the bar. Instead of watching after her and watching how her hips moved or how the fabric of her uniform clung to her, he watched the top of the table instead, thinking on her words. 

“Why so glum?” she said, rousing him when she returned. 

“I’m not glum,” he said, raising his chin from the back of the chair. 

“Then why is your face like that?” she gave a quip of a smile. 

“How can you be so jovial?” he asked. “After all you have been through? You’re how old again?”

“A cunning trick to know a ladies age, Mister Frye,” she said. “You ought to know it’s rude to ask.”

“And you ought to know that I don’t give a rats arse,” he grinned but Elizabeth shook her head even though Jacob could still see the ghost of a smile lingering on her lips. “Oh come on love, I’ll tell you if you tell me.”

“I’m twenty one,” she relented; god knows it’d only go on all night and Jacob looked the most unrelenting being in all of London. “Your turn.”

“We’re the same age, darling,” he crooned. “How about that.” 

“You look older,” she said, taking a drink from her tumbler, hiding a smirk that had begun to grow on her lips.

“You cheeky little-”

“Hold your thought,” she said nodding over his right shoulder. “I think we ought to leave.” 

Jacob turned in his seat to see a small gang of Blighters by the door. He counted three women and two large men and a handful of frightened city folk. 

“Leave and miss the fight?” he turned back to her with a sly smile. 

“You mean miss _starting_ a fight,” she answered, cocking her head to one side. “Don’t be reckless.”

“But that’s my middle name,” he threw her a wink as he spoke, finished his drink and he was out of his seat with his blade in the neck of one of the men before Elizabeth could even stop him. 

As could be imagined, a large fight broke out and blades were shown. Elizabeth saw the flash of a Kukuri in Jacob’s hand before she dived out of her seat and saved his back from being slashed by one of the women’s blades.

Elizabeth knocked her feet out from beneath her and used her concealed blade to keep her there as she dodged and countered an attack from the second larger man while Jacob dealt with the other two women. 

“You’re not the other Frye,” the large man looked confused for a moment and Elizabeth made use of that, plummeting her right hand into his nose before using her left, complete with brass knuckles, to hit him hard in the side. 

Whilst he was bent over, Jacob turned and shoved his blade into his back while Elizabeth put one of the women on the floor with her brass knuckles and shot the other in the head. 

“I think now we ought to leave,” she said as Jacob leant by the bodies, feeling for any money or extras they had about them.

“They might have money,” Jacob said without looking up.

“And the constables might lock us up for murder,” she said, grabbing a handful of the back of his jacket.

“But-”

“Now, Frye,” she said pulling at his jacket. “I can hear their whistles!”

“Spoilsport,” he said, standing at full height. “Almost getting caught is the whole fun of it.”

There was that devilish smile again, the one that Elizabeth couldn’t help but reciprocate.

“Alright,” she said. “You loot the men, I’ll loot the women. I’ll race you around the corner, out of sight.”

“Winner gets…?” Jacob trailed off, hopeful for something interesting.

“All the looted money,” Elizabeth said, pulling out twelve pounds from one of the women’s pockets. “Tick tock Mister Frye, they’re coming to get you.” 

This time Jacob hurried off before Elizabeth but she wasn’t far behind him. Unfortunately the corner they’d raced around was a dead end. 

“Time to go up,” Jacob pointed to the rooftop.

Elizabeth peered up; the building was at least four floors high and Jacob was already at the second climbing from ledge to ledge with ease. 

Hearing the constables whistle behind her she scrambled from ledge to ledge, not daring to look down and as she reached the top, Jacob grabbed her arm and hoisted her onto the flat roof. As he did so, he lost his footing and stumbled backwards with Elizabeth on top of him, their legs tangled together and Elizabeth’s cheek pressed to Jacob’s chest. 

And she was laughing, giggling almost, in a soft melodic tone that made Jacob’s stomach turn. 

“Shhh,” he tried to quieten her, but he started to laugh himself. “You shouldn’t laugh when the police are after you.”

Elizabeth managed to suppress her giggles and they didn’t dare part for fear of making a noise until the constables mutterings had become silent. Only then did Elizabeth pull herself from the assassin to peer over the edge of the building as Jacob stood over her. 

“You were right, Mister Frye,” she said as she allowed him to help her to her feet. “The fun is in almost getting caught.” 

An impish grin covered his features and he pressed a kiss to the top of her brass knuckles.

“It’s been a rather fun night with you,” he said, dropping her hand and admiring the view behind her. And of her. “Miss Moran.”

“You may call me Elizabeth,” she gave him a small smile. “I believe you showed gentlemanly ways by pulling me on this rooftop.” 

“Well,” Jacob said, swinging himself down the other side of the building. “A pretty bird like you wouldn’t last too long in jail now, would you?”


	5. Chapter 5

Elizabeth was woken by the children the following morning, finding herself laid the length of the chaise in Jacob’s carriage. When she lifted her head, she saw Jacob propped up on his arm, fast asleep in the winged back chair in the corner with his hat sat to the side. 

The children, after waking her, looked back at her bright eyed and happy, pleased to see that she’d made it back.

“Did you find ‘Bastian?” Mary asked with hopeful grin across her face. 

Elizabeth’s heart sank and she looked away from the youngest; how much longer could she put it off? Saying that she’d find him and that things would be okay? 

“No,” she finally answered, seeing Mary’s now glum expression. “But I want you stay here with Mister Frye. I’m going to find Sebastian today, alright?”

“You promise this time, Miss?” Toliver asked.

“I promise,” Elizabeth held out her little finger on her right hand. “Pinkie swear it.”

Toliver nodded and Elizabeth stood quietly as to not wake the sleeping assassin in the corner. He looked uncomfortable and his back must be sore with the way he slouched.

“Please be good?” she said. “For everyone, no matter who watches you today, please be good.”

“Promise,” Mary gave a nod as Elizabeth fixed her braids. 

“Good,” she said, stroking her hair fondly. “I’ll see you a little later. Tell Mister Frye I went to find Sebastian if he asks.”

The children watched after her as she passed Jacob in the chair and opened the door to the back of the carriage. It was still only early morning, the sky littered with stripes of pink and yellow. She gave one last wave to the children and dived off the back of the train, stumbling in the dust as she landed.

They were just past Whitechapel station and she clambered up the platform and walked through the station before ‘borrowing’ a horse and cart to get to Southwark. 

She dumped it two streets away and walked to where she, Sebastian and the children had made a home for themselves. When she walked in, broken glass littered the doorway and the smell of rum and gin hit her like a slap in the face as she walked up the stairs. 

Sebastian slouched at the table, a hand loosely holding a bottle that held the last remnants of gin in the bottom. 

“Sebastian?” she called out to him but he didn’t move. 

She hesitantly walked over, her new boots catching against the floor with each step as she looked over her brother. There was blood on his shirt, blood in his hair and he stank of alcohol. 

“Why do you do this?” she muttered to herself, taking the bottle from his hand.

“Why do you care?” came a response she wasn’t expecting. 

He lifted his head and Elizabeth saw the cut on his face had been split open again, his left cheek covered in dried and clotting blood, his shirt stained crimson. 

But his eyes narrowed on her, on her garments, on the black leather and blood red fabric and his expression turned, his lip snarling.

“What the hell are you wearing?” he said, kicking back the chair and stumbling a little; she’d never seen him look so furious, he’d always been passive but now his six foot frame loomed over her she was a little terrified. “Is this where you’ve been all this time?”

He grabbed her arm harshly, looking at the fabric that clad her body and when she tried to pull away, Sebastian only pulled her towards him.

“Yes, Sebastian there are assassins in the city!” she sounded jovial despite the look on his face. “They need help.”

“You’re not helping them,” he said sternly. “I forbid it Elizabeth. I forbid you to go back to them.”

Elizabeth pulled her arm back, surprising Sebastian with her strength as she stared at him.

“This is what mother wanted!” she argued. “She wanted us to help!”

“No, she didn’t!” Sebastian roared and Elizabeth backed up and away from his clenched fists. 

“She trained us!” she yelled back, keeping her distance. 

“She didn’t,” Sebastian looked away from her, his head hung and his voice low. “She was too sick to train us so she let someone else do it. You spent all your time training and not enough with her.”

His words were like a knife through her skin and she dropped the bottle she’d been holding to the floor where it shattered into a thousand fragments. 

“That isn’t fair Sebastian,” she said hoarsely. “We couldn’t go near her; what else could we do?” 

“Help!” he turned on her again but this time she didn’t flinch. 

“I did what mother wanted me to do,” she said in a steady voice. “What she asked of me. How dare you insinuate I ever did anything less!”

“You’re a disappointment, Elizabeth,” Sebastian resigned himself back to the chair where he’d been sat previously. “You should be getting married and living out your life.”

“I am living out my life,” she said harshly. “ _My_ life and you no longer get any say in it. You do what you want to do Sebastian. Drink, gamble, whatever you like. I will no longer be here to pick you up off of the floor. Mother trained me for this and I will live out her wishes; you do what you like with your life.”

“I forbid you to walk out of that door,” Sebastian’s glacial eyes glowered at her from where he sat. “You go and you do not come back, do you hear me?”

“I hear you,” she said, turning her back and walking through the door. “And by the way, the children were terribly worried about you, not that you even noticed they were gone.”

\---

Elizabeth stayed out of the way the rest of that day, residing on the top of St. Paul’s Cathedral, watching the world go by. She’d cried a little out of anger but now sat by herself, looking blankly at the world below her. 

She wondered where the train was; she figured if she waited at one of the stations long enough, it’d reappear but she’d go and wait for it later, the children were in good hands and she needed the alone time.

She wondered where Jayadeep was today and if Evie was by his side, wondered where Jacob had gotten to if he’d gotten to anywhere at all. Did he wonder where she was this morning? Did he worry when the children told him where she’d gone? 

Standing on the edge of the building she peered down to the hay cart beneath her; she remembered her first leap of faith, she and Jayadeep had done it together and the rush had been amazing. 

Allowing herself a smile, she dived from the edge and landed comfortably in the hay cart before pulling herself out and brushing herself down. Pulling up her hood, she began to walk, aiming for the nearest train station.

\---

The train was just rolling through the station and as it passed, she swung herself aboard at the front and made her way into the first carriage where Agnes was sat with the children.

“Where’s ‘Bastian?” Mary asked with an excited smile. “Did you bring him?”

“No,” she shook her head with a small smile. “’Bastian won’t be coming back and we won’t be going home.”

“Why not?” Toliver asked as Agnes gave her a sympathetic look. 

“Because he’s angry with me,” she answered. “But none of that matters. Have you had a good day?”

“Mister Frye took us out!” Mary smiled. “He took Toliver to see the boats and he told me all about the big air ship!”

“He did?” Elizabeth puzzled.

“He did, Miss,” Agnes smiled. “Right after his sister and Mister Greene disappeared out for the day.”

“Is he around?” she smiled back. “Mister Frye I mean.”

“Jacob is in his carriage,” Agnes nodded down the train. “I’ll take care of the little ones.”

“Thank you,” she gave a nod, kissed the children sweetly and made her way down the carriages, nodding to the rooks in the bar as she passed. 

Jacob sat in the winged back chair again, a piece of paper spread over his knee as he studied it. His top hat was crooked on his head, his coat thrown over the bed. For a moment she merely looked at him; his shirt sleeves were rolled up neatly, his waistcoat fastened properly and fitting quite tightly to his broad chest

“Good evening, Miss Moran,” Jacob looked up suddenly and Elizabeth froze to the spot, staring back at him. “Had a good day have we? Did you find your brother?”

Jacob noticed her flushed cheeks and she looked away from him when he mentioned the word brother. 

“He and I are no longer on good terms,” she said simply. “I hear you have had a good day with the children. Had nothing better to do?”

“The poor little tykes looked bored,” he shrugged. “Toliver likes the boats, Mary likes the great ships in the sky; they’re terrific kids.”

“They are,” she agreed.

“Greenie wants a word when he and my sister get back,” Jacob said as Elizabeth perched herself on the Chaise. 

And, as if Jayadeep had overheard him, he walked into the carriage with Evie behind him, a bright smile across her face.

“Ah good,” Jayadeep smiled between Elizabeth and Jacob. “You’re both here.”

“We wouldn’t be anywhere else now, would we Greenie?” Jacob gave a smirk as he set the paper aside. “Unlike you and Evie getting up to all kinds of things.”

“Jacob,” Evie scalded, but the smirk never left his features.

“I have a proposition,” Jayadeep looked at Jacob. “You need a partner.”

“I do not,” Jacob protested.

“He’s right,” Evie shrugged. “He needs a minder, you’re getting reckless, Jacob. You can’t just go around killing people as you please.”

“I’m an assassin,” Jacob raised a brow. “It’s what we do.”

“Not technically true,” Elizabeth spoke up. “We kill people who are supposed to be killed, not people on the streets.”

“Wasn’t the case when you killed them lady Blighter’s in the pub last night,” Jacob folded his arms as Evie and Jayadeep gave her a surprised look.

“One of them was about to stab you in the back,” she shot him a glare. “You’re welcome, by the way. It was your fault, you started the fight.”

Jacob scoffed and turned away, pretending to be once more interested in the piece of paper he’d recently been looking at.

“Elizabeth,” Jayadeep smiled softly at her, the same smile he held as a child. “Mister Frye will be your partner; take care of one another.”

“Why can’t you and I be partners?” she asked. 

“Miss Frye and I are better suited to research,” he smiled once more. “You and Jacob are better in the streets, you can keep him in check, Jacob will keep you safe.”

Jacob slouched, hiding his face behind the paper and Elizabeth sighed deeply. 

“Get plenty of rest,” Jayadeep advised. “Tomorrow we’ll begin planning.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised I'd update today and I apologise if it doesn't explain much, I just needed to tie up a loose end. Sebastian will be making an appearance again later on, I swear it!


	6. Chapter 6

Elizabeth barely slept that night. She was kept awake by the sight of her brother covered in crimson and the phantom smells of liquor. 

Jacob was back in his bed and sleeping on his front, his head buried in folded arms as he snored softly while the children slept at either end of the Chaise. She’d been sleeping in the chair or at least trying to as she passed glances between the children and Jacob. 

Of course, Jacob had a few choice words to say to her involving the sleeping arrangements stating that she was more than welcome to keep his bed warm and of course himself, but she’d firmly told him she’d rather suffer a sore back and stiff neck before she even thought about doing such a thing. 

She sat by herself in the main carriage, staring up at the wall that the Frye’s had pinned things to before Jayadeep roused her from her thoughts.

“You’re awake early,” he commented as he took a seat beside her. 

“In order to be awake early,” she said, turning to him. “You must first sleep.”

“Jacob keeping you awake?” Jayadeep gave a teasing smile but Elizabeth shrugged it off. 

“Far from it,” she answered. “So what exactly are we planning today?” 

“London belongs to the people,” Jayadeep said, standing up to view the wall she’d been looking at just moments before. “It is currently ruled by a man named James Moriarty; you’ll have heard the name no doubt, he controls every level of the City’s infrastructure.” 

“Moriarty’s Soothing Syrup,” she said, lolling her head to one side. “I know the name.”

“He’s a Templar,” he said. “They call him the Grand Master and he has seven cohorts beneath him that help him stay where he is. You and Mister Frye are going to go out there and stop him in his tracks.”

“Let me guess,” Elizabeth crossed her arms. “There’s going to be some assassinating? Perhaps seven of them?”

Jayadeep gave a smile and turned back to the board.

“All in good time Miss Elizabeth,” he said. “For now, I want you and Jacob to head out.”

“Oh goody,” she said rolling her eyes. “And what, pray tell, would you like Jacob and I to do?”

“Evie discovered that there is a merchant by The Thames peddling a poisonous concoction that goes into Moriarty’s Soothing Syrup,” Jayadeep answered her, his arms folded over his middle as he looked at her. “I want you and Jacob to find him and find out all you can before you take out this disgusting syrup.”

“Take it out?” she raised one eyebrow. 

“Ruin him, Elizabeth,” Jayadeep’s expression turned hard, an expression she’d never seen before on his usually jovial face. “Do what it takes to get rid of the syrup.”

“Alright,” she gave a terse nod. “And what will you be doing today?”

“Evie and I have work to do surrounding the Shroud of Eden,” he sighed. “You need not concern yourself with that. And please, keep and eye on Jacob.”

“Do I have to?” she said. “He’s a law unto himself.”

“That may be true,” Jayadeep said, wandering to the door into the carriage in front. “But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t need help staying out of trouble.”

“He is trouble,” she muttered as Jayadeep left the carriage. 

\---

Jacob didn’t emerge for another hour and Elizabeth had managed to close her eyes for a short while until he woke her.

“Suppose we better get on with Greenie’s mission eh?” he said, as she yawned and rubbed her eyes. “Or would you rather go back to bed?”

“That’d be a fine thing,” she grouched as she stood. “If I could get a bed.”

“I offered you mine,” he shrugged, straightening up his top hat. “But you went and got all uptight and upset.”

Grinding her teeth behind her lips, Elizabeth walked past him and jumped from the train where the carriages connected, leaving Jacob to literally hurry after her. 

“The merchant is on The Strand,” Jacob said as he caught up with her.

“Oh, I do apologise Mister Frye,” she said stopping in her tracks. “I believe I may be mistaken. Do you mean you actually want to work with me? Seen as though you are giving me information and all, I wouldn’t want to get the wrong idea.”

She watched the muscles in his jaw tighten before she walked ahead and tired to figure out which way The Strand actually was.

“I could do the whole bloody thing on my own,” he shouted after her.

“Go ahead,” she answered without looking at him. “I’m sure Jayadeep and your sister won’t be _too_ mad with you for thinking that you can do everything so perfectly well on your own.”

“You’re the one thinking you can do ever so well on your own darling,” she heard Jacob behind her. “By which I mean, you’re heading in _entirely_ the wrong bloody direction considering The Thames is behind us.”

He watched Elizabeth’s shoulders tense and her feet pause in their footsteps before he let a smug smirk cover his face as she turned around.

“Best leave the navigating to someone who actually knows where they’re going,” he said as she stalked by him

“Too bad you don’t know much of anything else,” she answered as he took the lead.

“Oh, you wound me,” he said sarcastically as he clutched at his chest. “My feelings are well and truly hurt.”

She eased off a little and let Jacob get slightly ahead; she knew she should at least try and make pleasantries with him if they were to work so closely, but Jacob wasn’t showing any signs of doing the same so why bother?

They walked in silence until they reached The Strand and found a small market square not too far from the banks of The Thames. Without a word of say so, Jacob grabbed Elizabeth’s wrist and pulled her behind a stack of crates, telling her to pull up her hood as he did so.

“Which one do you reckon it is?” she asked as they both peered out, both with their hoods up with Jacob and his tall frame towering over her.

“Feeling talkative now are we?” Jacob remarked as he looked over the crowd; it had to be the youngish looking man in the tatty blue jacket, he was the one who looked like he was up to no good.

“ _You wound me_ ,” she reciprocated from his earlier words. “The young guy in the blue jacket, right?”

She dared to peer up to Jacob from where she was crouched. His hood shadowed his eyes, making it impossible for her to see him and all she could see was his whiskered chin and the faint white line of a scar on his cheek.

“How did you figure it out?” he asked, never taking his eyes from the target.

“Everyone else is selling good honest things; food mainly,” she shrugged. “He’s selling something peculiar. That, and the lady beside him appears to be yelling at him about what appears to be her husband.”

“Then let’s go and get him,” Jacob smirked.

Before Elizabeth could stop him, Jacob had vaulted the crates and spooked the merchant who began running towards the banks of The Thames as she took off after him, heading a different way to Jacob in hopes of cutting them both off. 

She jumped over crates and slid under tables as they chased him through the markets and eventually she got ahead of Jacob, vaulted over a table and made a grab for the merchant who she pinned to the floor after she’d tackled him to the cobbles. 

Her lungs were burning, her chest heaving and sore as she glared down at the man in her grasp and Jacob caught up.

The merchant started to babble as they both dragged him up but Jacob seemed more interested in Elizabeth’s pink cheeks and the rise and fall of her chest as she got her breath back. She grabbed a handful of the merchants shirt and pulled it tight, pulling his face toward hers.

“Tell me where the syrup originates,” she growled and Jacob took a step back but kept a watchful eyes. “Tell me and I promise I won’t hurt you. I can’t promise the same for my consociate though I’m afraid, because he’s probably going to hurt you either way.”

Elizabeth held the fabric of the merchants shirt tighter, so tight in fact that both Jacob and the merchant heard her knuckles crack. 

“You have five seconds,” Elizabeth said as Jacob took a step to her side, flexing his fingers to show off the deadly brass knuckles that occupied his hand. “Five seconds to tell me or face the consequences, so which will it be?”

“All I know,” the merchant started with a look of sheer panic across his face. “Is that they make a run each day, between the gasometers and the asylum. Please don’t hurt me, I mean well.”

“You mean well?” Jacob scoffed. 

“The lady who was yelling at you didn’t seem to think that you were,” she answered the merchant. “You made her husband sick.”

“Not me, I just sell the stuff,” the merchant put up his hands as Elizabeth narrowed her green eyes on him before shoving him in the direction of Jacob. 

“Do as you will,” she said.

“I’m allowed to hit him?” Jacob cocked an eyebrow. 

“He’s poisoning the general public,” she answered him, mirroring his cocked eyebrow. “He’s worth hitting more than once.”

A smirk replaced Jacob’s expression and Elizabeth wandered ahead as Jacob gave the merchant a beating before he caught up to her. 

“And here was me thinking you would be ever so strict with me,” Jacob said as he wiped his brass knuckles clean on his coat. 

“That can be arranged, Mister Frye,” she said as they walked side by side. “That man deserved what he got.”

“And the Blighter’s in the bar the other night didn’t?” Jacob asked as he pinched two apples from a nearby stall without anyone seeing.

“I’m not saying they didn’t,” Elizabeth said, catching the apple that he’d thrown her way. “But you started that fight, perhaps they’d have been quiet if you hadn’t. You wouldn’t have almost gotten stabbed in the back if you could just leave well enough alone.”

“Lucky you were there to save me then love,” he answered with a mouthful of apple. 

“Let’s just find the distributor, Jacob,” she sighed before biting into the apple. “God only knows how long I can put up with you for.” 

"I think the lady doth protest too much," he said, gently shoving into her as they walked side by side.

"And I think you think too much, Jacob," she answered. 

"Ah," his smirk grew. " _Jacob._ Enlighten me, _Elizabeth_ , have I been gentlemanly at all? You seem to be calling me by my actual name." 

"The distributor, Jacob," she sighed deeply, cursing herself for calling him by his name. "Let's go."

"Getting all flustered, are we?" he said, shoving her again, this time a little harder.

"Don't make me hit you Frye," she glowered out of the corner of her eye. "Because I will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very very very tired so please forgive any spelling mistakes (it is unbeta'd anyway). I was going to wait until next week to update but because you all seem to be enjoying it, I couldn't resist, even if I am half asleep on the keyboard.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it!  
> Feedback is always welcome & thank you to everyone reading :)


	7. Chapter 7

Once they’d made it across town, they scaled the side of a building that overlooked another small market square, sitting side by side on the edge as they surveyed the crowd and tried to pick out the distributor.

It was a cold day with the sun low in the bright blue sky. Jacob’s breath came out in long, white wisps and Elizabeth frantically rubbed her hands together in hopes of getting some heat into her palms. 

Jacob suddenly reached over to her and pulled her hood up and over her head with a slight chuckle before she lifted the front and peered at him with a glare. 

“What?” he grinned. “It’ll keep your ears warm.”

Jacob’s teeth chattered and Elizabeth couldn’t hide the smile that her lips had pulled into before she turned away from him. He folded his arms, placing his hands under his armpits for warmth as they both continued to look across the crowd from where they sat.

She could see that Jacob was looking at each and every person below and she herself could see a handful of Blighters that stood out like sore thumbs in their bright red chequered uniforms.

“Still nothing?” she asked from beside him, her hands clasped tightly together as she sniffled. 

“Not unless you’ve spotted him,” Jacob turned his head to her as she peered down. “Or her.”

“No,” she shook her head.

“Then perhaps we’ll be here a while,” Jacob said, swinging his feet over the ledge. 

With a sigh, Elizabeth glanced out over the rest of the rooftops around them with their mismatched chimneys and watched as the rising smoke drifted lazily towards the sky; there were warm, roaring fires beneath those chimneys and she ached to put her cold, numb hands near one. 

“Kidnap or kill?” Jacob asked, absentmindedly. “Reckon he or she has anything of worth on them?”

“Hm,” Elizabeth made a thoughtful noise in the back of her throat. “Potentially. But I say kill.”

“Aren’t you here to stop my recklessness?” Jacob turned to her. “Because so far you’ve had me beat a poor man to almost death and now you want me to kill the distributor? Shame on you Miss Moran.”

He wagged a finger at her but she pushed his hand out of the way.

“These people,” she cast her hand ahead of her, gesturing to the crowd below. “They are being poisoned, hurt, made ill by the people that they should trust. Moriarty doesn’t care at all for the people, you saw what the syrup did to that poor woman’s husband back there. This scheme, this plan, this stupid idea, it must be stopped Mister Frye. Jayadeep told me that London belongs to the people and I intend to give it back to them.”

“You’ve been listening to Greenie,” he said crossing his arms. 

“Is he wrong?” she asked with an incredulous expression that Jacob laughed at. 

“Of course he isn’t, love,” he said with a harsh pat to her shoulder which she flinched at. “I just think Greenie thinks it’ll be easier than it actually is to give the city back to the people.”

“That sounds like you’re giving up before you’ve started,” she said, peering down at the crowd once more.

“Taking down Moriarty, means taking down his associates, Miss Moran,” Jacob explained. “Of which he has seven. As you know, my sweet sister and Greenie have a mission of their own, this Shroud of Eden or whatever it’s called. Thus leaves seven associates for you and I and each associate will be harder to get rid of than the last.”

“No wonder you needed a partner if you’re going to be so defeatist about it,” she raised an eyebrow and Jacob scowled at her.

“I don’t need a bloody partner,” he pouted.

“Little bit of tough luck you’re having then isn’t it,” Elizabeth said, standing and stretching her arms above her head. “Because you’re stuck with me.”

“I can think of worse people to be stuck with,” he smirked, admiring the view of her stretching. “I count myself lucky.”

“My, my, Mister Frye,” she leant down to him with her hands on his shoulders and her lips by his ear, her warm breath like needles against his cold skin. “I believe that was _almost_ a compliment.”

Jacob’s shoulders were tense under her palms and the leather that covered the shoulders of his coat was cold to the touch. Over his head, she peered down at the crowd, gently leaning on his shoulders before she spotted their target.

“There.”

She pointed in the direction of a blue carriage where a man stood outside of it in a black jacket with tails, a top hat and an expensive looking cane. Jacob looked in the direction of which she had pointed and spotted that the man was surrounded by thugs in red. 

“Plan of action,” Jacob leant back to her slightly. “We follow him unseen to wherever he’s going.”

“And then?” Elizabeth leant further forwards, her hands pressing a little more into Jacob’s shoulders.

“Well, you’re the one who wants to kill him,” Jacob gently shrugged off her hands from his shoulders and stood, once more towering over her. “I’m not your bloody hired knife love, you’re an assassin too.”

“A fair point, Mister Frye,” she said. “Let’s go and follow him.”

Elizabeth clambered down the building with Jacob scurrying down at her side before they effortlessly mingled into the crowd where no one gave them a second look. As the man climbed back into his carriage, Elizabeth laid a hand on Jacob’s gauntlet and pulled him to the roadside where they commandeered a carriage of their own and followed on behind him, just far enough away to keep him in sight.

“And what if we don’t kill him?” she said as Jacob took the reigns, keeping as close as he dared without drawing attention.

“I thought you wanted to kill him?” he frowned. 

“No,” she shook her head. “I changed my mind, I think I want to pick pocket him instead.”

“Elizabeth, he’s a bad man,” Jacob said sardonically. “I thought you didn’t like bad men.”

“You’re a bad man,” she shrugged one shoulder.

“Careful, Miss Moran,” Jacob smirked. “You might give me the wrong idea.”

“And what idea would that be?” she asked.

“The idea that you actually might _like_ me,” he said pulling up the cart a little behind the one that contained the distributor. 

“And where might you get a silly idea like that Mister Frye?” she said, jumping from the cart and keeping an eye on the distributor. 

“From the pretty young lady who just jumped from my cart,” he said tipping his hat. 

Without further to say on the matter, she told Jacob she wouldn’t be long and disappeared down a side alley beside the factory as the distributor went inside. When she emerged at the other side, she hid herself in an unhappy crowd of workers as the distributor came out to see what the fuss was. 

When his back was turned, Elizabeth slid her hand into his pocket and pulled out something she hadn’t been expecting along with fifteen pounds that she was happily going to keep for herself. 

She snuck out of the crowd and back down the alley to where Jacob was still sat atop the cart, looking down on her as she looked at what she’d pulled from the distributors pocket. 

“Well?” Jacob asked as she climbed up beside him. “Did the little Rook find anything?” 

“Little Rook?” she turned to him, looking up from the item in her hands. 

“That is what you are,” he shrugged. “My little Rook. My partner.”

“Mister Frye, I regret to inform you that I am not _your_ anything,” she sighed. “I am but your equal, not a fragile little bird or a damsel in distress.”

“Then you’re a tough little Rook,” he smirked. “What did you find?” 

“The distributor,” she said, looking at the item; they looked like plans. “He knows where the boss is who knows where the distillery is for the syrup. The distribution boss frequents a fight club in Southwark at the Foundry.”

“And what say you, tough little Rook?” Jacob crooned with a smile. “Shall we go and find the boss?”

Elizabeth ignored the name and nodded her head as Jacob whipped the horses and turned the cart around heading back towards Southwark.

“You look worried,” Jacob said, stealing a sideways glance at her as he directed the horses. 

“Unlike you to be concerned,” she said, glancing back. 

“Then I won’t ask,” he said turning away. “It was a mere observation.”

“Sebastian frequents the fight club at the Foundry,” she said. 

“And will he cause us a problem if he is there?” Jacob asked, his jaw tight. 

“I’m not sure,” she answered. “But we’ll find out, I’m sure.”

“Killing the boss?” Jacob asked.

“No,” she shook her head. “Kidnap. Dead men can’t talk, Mister Frye.”

“You try telling that to Dickens,” Jacob muttered. “How about we kill him _after_ he’s talked?”

“I’d rather see him suffer in jail,” she answered him. “Just like he made the people suffer.”

“You have a peculiar outlook on life, little Rook,” he said. “Not everyone deserves a kindness, some people deserve brutality.”

“Best save your brutality for the ones that deserve it then, eh Mister Frye?” she said thumbing the stolen coins in her pocket. 

Jacob left the cart a fair distance from the foundry before they walked over and Jacob pulled Elizabeth to the side, concealing them both behind a wall. 

“I’ll fetch him,” Jacob said, pulling up his hood. “Promise I won’t kill him.”

Elizabeth gave him a disbelieving look and went to pull up her hood, but Jacob stopped her and pulled off his brass knuckles before crossing his heart and sliding them back on.

“I _promise_ little Rook,” he smirked, knowing the name was getting to her with the way she clenched her teeth behind the thin smile on her lips. “Then you can give him what for; is that a deal?”

Jacob held out his brass knuckled hand and Elizabeth begrudgingly slid her hand into his which he gripped tight and shook firmly. 

“You promise?” she raised a brow. 

“Crossed my heart, love,” he said, slapping her on the back as he passed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's so cold today (it actually snowed last night!) so I've spent the morning curled up in bed where it's warm trying to develop the dynamic in their partnership. I actually had a lot of fun writing this chapter and their reactions to one another; I think it's very much love/hate friendship right now with Elizabeth loving to hate Jacob and Jacob hating to love her. I had to stop myself from writing before I got too carried away. 
> 
> There might be another update later on today, but I can't make any promises! 
> 
> Once more, thank you for reading and feedback is welcome :)


	8. Chapter 8

Jacob might have crossed his heart but that didn’t mean Elizabeth trusted him. Once Jacob had slipped into the crowd that had congregated around the ring, she pulled up her own hood and slipped inside, sliding through the crowd until she was at the ringside. 

Jacob was lost somewhere in the crowds, concerned with locating the distributor but within seconds, Elizabeth had spotted him at the other side of the ring; he was easy to spot really in his snow white coat with black lapels. 

But then something else caught her eye; a familiar mop of blonde hair had made its way into the ring from the right. 

Sebastian’s fists were raised in front of his bare torso, the muscles in his arms huge and taught the wound on his face beginning to scar a deep and furious red. He needed to wash, he needed his hair cutting, he needed aid on that wound on his face.

What he needed was her, but Elizabeth found herself looking the other way; he’d told her not to come back so if he wanted to leave this place black and blue, so be it. 

Across the ring the distributor still stood, now watching the fight but there was no sign of Jacob; was he really finding it that hard to locate him? She was supposed to be waiting outside so she couldn’t very well just wander over and grab him could she?

“I thought I was bringing him to you?” Jacob was suddenly behind her. “Or can’t you resist watching two grown men fight?”

Elizabeth didn’t move to face him and Jacob watched the fight over her hooded head. 

“In order to bring him to me, you have to find him first,” she sighed. “Which, I don’t suppose you’ve done?”

“I looked everywhere,” Jacob objected. 

“Apart from right in front of your face, Mister Frye,” she sighed once again, her eyes fixed on Sebastian as he received a harsh blow to the ribs. “I spotted him as soon as I walked in; the man in the white coat across the ring.”

“A sharp eye, little Rook,” he said and she could feel that smirk in his voice. “I’ll fetch him.”

Elizabeth turned and glanced up at him with a frown. 

“I think I’d better fetch him,” she said. “You might lose him.”

All of a sudden, hands grabbed Elizabeth from the back and painfully pulled her over the barrier of the fighting ring where she landed in a heap on the other side at the feet of her burly brother. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” he growled; he’d put the other man on the floor and now towered over Elizabeth who scrambled out of the way of his flailing fists. “Come to check up on me? To kill me?”

He grabbed her by her right ankle and pulled her through the dirt on the floor before she kicked him off and scrambled upright. 

The crowd around them were oblivious to the fact they were related, oblivious to what Elizabeth was too; they just wanted to see a damn good fight. 

“Why would I do that?” she said a little breathlessly. “You can take care of yourself.”

Sebastian charged at her, fists up and clenched but it was Jacob that took the hit, diving in between them as Elizabeth flinched expecting her brothers fist to hit her square in the jaw. 

“And who the fuck are you?” Sebastian snarled as Elizabeth stepped to Jacob’s side.

“Jacob Frye,” Jacob answered only flinching slightly at the sting Sebastian’s punch had caused. “You must be the brother. Darling little sister you have here; I think you should treat her better.”

“Jacob don’t,” Elizabeth pleaded. “We’re not here to do this.”

Jacob’s hazel eyes had darkened, his hands had clasped into fists as Sebastian glowered at him. The blonde was taller and wider than Jacob, but Jacob was quicker and smarter. 

“Do as she says,” Sebastian smirked. “And maybe I won’t hurt you.”

“Jacob,” Elizabeth pleaded once again. “ _Please_.”

But Jacob ignored her wholeheartedly and lunged for Sebastian as Elizabeth moved out of the way. She was supposed to stop this recklessness, this stupidity. _They_ were supposed to be getting the distribution boss.

With a deep sigh, she glanced at Jacob and Sebastian before she climbed out of the ring and saw the boss again. He was engrossed in watching the fight along with everyone else, perhaps this was the ample opportunity. 

She crept up behind him and using the anger she felt towards her brother and now Jacob for not listening, she plummeted her fist into his stomach and twisted his right arm behind his back before he could even be surprised at what was happening. 

“I don’t require a reason to end your life,” she said, shoving him in front of her to make him walk, all the while keeping a tight grip on his hand so he couldn’t get away. “So do as you’re bloody well told and I won’t spill a tiny little drop of your blood.”

The man remained quiet and they walked calmly through the crowds until Elizabeth got him outside, not giving a second thought to Jacob and Sebastian still fighting in the ring. 

“Where is the syrup made?” she said, shoving him to the floor and showing off her concealed blade. “Speak, or I-”

“In the distillery,” he said almost instantly. “That large building Miss, by the brewery. Please don’t hurt me.”

“Pathetic,” she said, retracting the blade. “And a little too easy. Call yourself a Templar?”

She nodded to the patch on his arm of the red cross and he nodded while cowering away. 

“You’re a poor excuse,” she gave him a shove. “I think I’ll leave them to kill you, you don’t deserve the kiss of my blade.”

As the boss made to leave, Elizabeth pulled him back by his shoulder and into the point of her concealed blade. 

“Of course,” she said as he weakened. “You’re all poor excuses and you’ve hurt so many people. It‘s time to stop this soothing syrup for good.”

She pulled her blade back and he fell to the floor before she concealed her blade once more and walked away, leaving the body where it fell. 

When she reached the way they’d entered, she found Jacob clutching at his arm and leaning against the wall. 

“Bloody big brute your brother,” he gave her a feeble smile. “Don’t worry, I didn’t kill him.”

“Perhaps you should have,” she said walking by him. 

“You’re not going to help me?” Jacob called after her.

“You put yourself in that ring,” she shrugged one shoulder. 

“I stopped him from hitting you,” he said, following her under the bridge as the train ran across the top. 

“I didn’t ask you to.” 

She stopped walking and turned to face him; they were stood on a patch of grass with the sun still low in the sky and the air still as cold as ice. Jacob’s nose was bloody, his lip split, his right eye bruising something fierce and by the looks of it, his left arm bleeding where Sebastian had nicked him with a knife. 

Jacob looked back at her with a confused expression; surely she didn’t think he was just going to stand idly by while a man thrice her height and twice her weight knocked her about?

“Elizabeth I-”

“Thank you,” she said simply. “Sebastian would have done more damage to me than you.”

“And you’re not a damsel in distress?” Jacob managed to raise on eyebrow and give a half smirk despite his split lip. 

“I don’t _need_ saving, Jacob,” she said, lifting his right hand from his left arm to inspect the damage; the cut was deep and sticky with blood. “But I did appreciate it.”

Jacob watched as she untied the tatty cravat from around his neck and tied it tight around his arm like a tourniquet to stem the bleeding.

“Sorry if it hurts,” she apologised. “I was never too good at patching up bad wounds.”

“Is it that bad?” he eyed the wound as Elizabeth glanced at his worried expression and gave a smile. 

“Terribly so I’m afraid,” she sighed. “You might even lose your arm.”

For a split second, Jacob was horrified until he saw the smile on her face. If his arm didn’t hurt so badly he’d have shoved her.

“Let’s get you back to the train and patched up,” she said. “We can pick this up tomorrow.”

“What about the boss?” Jacob said as she began to walk away. 

“He’s dead in the factory,” she said turning around. “The distillery for the syrup is beside the brewery, Mister Frye. While you played fisticuffs, I played assassin. We’ll visit the distillery tomorrow and wreak a little more havoc then, alright?”

“I knew it,” he smirked as he walked by her side, pulling her hood down as they went.

“Knew what, Frye?” she grumbled, neatening out her hair that Jacob had made a mess of by pulling down her hood.

“That you were a tough little Rook,” he said, taking a step away less she smacked him in his already wounded arm. 

“Then that’s one thing that you do know,” she gave him a sideways glance. “Come on. Train. Now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so very sorry for not updating all week, I've been so busy with work and various other things. I just had to write a little something, this chapter is slightly shorter than the others and I haven't had very long to write it.
> 
> This weekend I'll be posting another though so stay tuned; promise it'll be better than this one. I just wanted to tie the soothing syrup up for the time being.
> 
> Feedback, as always, is always welcome & thank you for reading! :)


	9. Chapter 9

The train was vacant when they arrived back aboard save for Agnes and a couple of Jacob’s Rook’s hanging about in the back carriage. Elizabeth had noticed that Jacob seemed a little weak; perhaps he was tired or perhaps Sebastian had knocked him about a little too much.

But Jacob’s pride hadn’t been hurt if he had indeed lost to Sebastian and he strutted through his carriage with a smug smirk on his face.

“Well,” he said, throwing himself into his chair and ignoring the slight pain that flared through his side. “I think we did rather well today, what say you little Rook?”

“I loathe to agree with you,” she answered him as she pulled off the leather coat and threw it aside. “And I loathe that name even more so, but yes, Mister Frye, I think we did rather well.”

She pushed the sleeves of her shirt up to her elbows and Jacob admired the intricate work of the corset that sat over the shirt. Like the lapels on her coat, the corset was blood red and then embroidered in black with a beautiful rose pattern. 

He watched her as she moved around the carriage, looking from her corset to her knee high laced up boots and the knife pouch on the small belt that encircled her thigh. And then he noticed she flinched when she walked with a slight pained expression on her face.

“Did he hurt you, love?” Jacob asked as she poured some water into a bowl from a jug that sat on his desk. “You look like you’re limping.”

“I’m perfectly fine,” she said, grabbing a rag and placing it in the water before she walked over to Jacob. “You on the other hand, are not.”

The blood had dried on Jacob’s face and his bottom lip was swollen and scabbed over. His right eye was bruised in purples and yellows and his right hand held onto his left side, clutching at the pain. 

She knelt by his chair and removed his top hat, setting it aside before she wrung out the rag so it was damp and gently pressed it to his face to clean off the dried blood. 

“I don’t need nursing,” he protested, attempting to push the rag away but Elizabeth only pushed his hand away.

“And I don’t need saving, Frye,” she countered. “Looks like we both ended up with something we didn’t need, doesn’t it?”

With a glare, Jacob leant back and allowed her to continue; besides it wasn’t like he was protesting too much, he seemed to like the closeness as she leant over him to clean up his wounds. 

His nose didn’t seem to be broken, just a little swollen on the bridge and his lip didn’t look half as bad now, just a little red and sore. His black eye seemed to suit him, matching to the scars on his face and his tousled hair stuck out at every angle as she dropped the rag back into the bowl. 

“I’m quite alright now, love,” he said with a sigh as she stood up. “Thank you.”

“Your arm,” she said nodding to where the cravat still acted like a poor tourniquet. 

“It’ll be alright,” he said glancing to it. “Had worse.”

“Suit yourself,” she shrugged and placed the bowl back on the table. “I’m going to find the children.”

Jacob gave a nod and relaxed back into the chair as Elizabeth left the carriage and left him in silence. He replayed the day in his head, remembering how Sebastian had grabbed hold of Elizabeth and how he was going to so carelessly hurt her; he couldn’t imagine ever doing such a thing to his own sibling, he adored Evie no matter how much she got on his last nerve, he could never hurt her. 

He felt a pang of sympathy for Elizabeth. Much like him she was young but unlike him, she was caged. Jacob had free run of London from the cobbles to the rooftops, London was going to be his but Elizabeth had lived a sheltered life in the short time she’d been in the magnificent city. 

Perhaps it was time for the little Rook to flee the cage and sing, to spread her wings and kindness across the callous city. Jacob could find little fault in her; her skills were a little rusty but between him, Evie and Greenie, they could bring her back up to speed again. She managed to keep up with him with ease and she could spot a target in a crowd before he’d even had a chance to catch a glance.

Elizabeth had a rose tinted view of the world and believed that everyone could be kind and that everyone deserved a chance, a kindness that perhaps she had learnt from her mother, but a kindness that seemed ignorant none the less.

She was oblivious to the schemes of Moriarty, to the depravity in Parliament and to the Templar’s that overran the city, but while she was oblivious to the goings on, she was willing to fight, willing to learn just what exactly was going on.

Maybe she looked kind and caring but Jacob could see sometimes that when he looked at her, something fierce resided in those jade green eyes. Perhaps it was loneliness through losing her mother, her home and now her brother was lost to her too and not in death but hostility. Maybe it was fear; she’d been trained as an assassin but her skill set had never been put into play until now, it was possible she was afraid of failing others around her and maybe even failing herself. 

Whilst Jacob was lost in his thoughts of Elizabeth and her life, Elizabeth herself was in the carriage with the Rooks aboard with the children. The Rooks had been telling them stories, filling their heads with wonder and awe and Elizabeth sat with a smile on her face as one of the larger Rooks sat with Mary on his knee and Toliver at his feet. 

“Where’s Mister Frye Ma’am?” one of them asked. “Don’t tell me he’s tired out. Bet ya had him runnin’ about London dint ya? Mister Frye would do anything’ for you, beggin ya pardon of course ma’am but you’re a pretty little lady.”

Elizabeth flushed pink and smiled at the Rook who’d been talking to her; it was true she’d turned a few heads when she’d walked into the carriage sans coat, hair a mess and shirt rolled up to her elbows but she didn’t mind the looks; Jacob’s boys were quite polite to say the King was a sarcastic bastard with a lewd sense of humour. 

“Mister Frye is in his carriage,” she answered, her smile growing a little more. “And it’s more like he had me running around London. He sustained a few little injuries, he needs a little rest.”

“And you ma’am?” the Rook asked. “You’re alright, ain’t ya?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “Thank you.”

After having a glass of rum with a handful of the Rooks, she collected the children and took them into the main carriage where Agnes had set up a bed for them both, out of the way of the work going on aboard the train.

Mary climbed into bed first, then Toliver as Elizabeth knelt by the bed and pulled the covers over them. Jacob stood in the doorway, wanting to slide by to grab a drink with his gang, but stopped to observe the tender scene as he watched Elizabeth stroke Mary’s hair back gently.

The children’s eyes were heavy and they were fighting to stay awake, but Elizabeth soothed them with a song her mother used to sing and her gentle voice made Jacob weak in the knees. 

" _Underneath the gas light's glitter, stands a fragile little girl; heedless of the night winds bitter, as they round about her whirl. While the thousands pass unheeding in the evening's waning hours; still she cries with tearful pleading, won't you buy my pretty flowers?_ "

Mary fell asleep first and with a final long yawn from Toliver, he closed his hazel eyes and settled down to sleep. Before Elizabeth could get up and catch him, Jacob stepped back into his own carriage with a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. 

A moment later, Elizabeth walked in and threw herself on the Chaise as Jacob stood with his back to her. 

“How are you feeling?” she asked, unpinning her hair. “How’s your arm?”

“Still attached,” he said, unable to turn around. “How are the children?”

“Fast asleep,” she answered, running her fingers through her hair. “The Rooks have been telling them stories.”

“I wouldn’t trust them with the children,” Jacob gave a light laugh before he moved to the door. “Speaking of them, I promised them a drink. Until the morning, Miss Moran.”

“They have been asking of you,” Elizabeth looked up at him, catching the puzzled look on his face. “Everything alright?”

Jacob watched as she perfectly arched her brow before sliding off his coat and flinging it to the other side of the carriage. 

“Yes,” he answered shortly, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight…” 

But Elizabeth’s goodnight was cut short as he rushed out of the door and he left her sat there alone and confused. 

She was beginning to find out that Jacob wasn’t a simple man to understand; there was a heated temper and a quick wit, but buried somewhere under all his bravado was a heart of gold and a will to actually be sensitive. 

She still couldn’t quite believe that he’d put himself between herself and her brother, that he’d taken the hit for her and then actually fought her brother all because he thought that she deserved to be treated better. 

A fine comment coming from a gentleman such as himself saying that a woman should be treated better of course. 

But this had been the second time he’d saved her; first from the Blighter that took hold of Toliver and then from her brother who was going to beat her senseless for something that she believed in. 

She couldn’t make her mind up about him and each time that she thought she could, he’d do something else that made her question his whole entire existence. He didn’t want a partner but he seemed proud to have been by her side today and proud to have done well where the Soothing Syrup was concerned. He didn’t want patching up but he’d quite happily sat there after a small protest and let her take care of his injuries. 

Of course she could just call him a condescending bastard and that would be that, but there was something about him that pulled her in; something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She knew they had a long road ahead of them and a hell of a lot of work to do; there were Blighter’s to get rid of, schemes to disrupt and corrupt people to assassinate and all the while she’d be by Jacob Frye’s side like a shadow, watching, learning, _admiring._

Damn that handsome enticing devil. And he knew that’s exactly what he was. All that charm and bravado wasn’t earned, it was _learned_. Jacob could play a man like a fiddle with one look, he could charm a woman into bed with one word, one smile, one wink of a perfect hazel eye, but not Elizabeth. 

She deflected his charm, shrugged off his pet names and threw his sarcasm back with a sharper tongue and a quicker wit and while they were mismatched in gender, Elizabeth was more than his equal on every other level.

With an audible grunt, Elizabeth settled on the Chaise and pulled the blanket over her as she settled down for the night and hoped that Jacob didn’t stagger back in too drunk after his royal audience with his loyal subjects.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning/afternoon!
> 
> I plan to write more than just this one chapter today and I've been working on a mood board kind of thing to help me get my head together. (Usually I play Syndicate for a good hour before I write but today I just don't feel like it.) You can find my moodboard here (https://uk.pinterest.com/unwhosual/animus/) on pinterest :) 
> 
> And you can find the rest of the words to Elizabeth's lullaby to the children here http://www.traditionalmusic.co.uk/songster/22-wont-you-buy-my-pretty-flowers.htm  
> (Victorian songs are so hard to find to actually listen to but of the handful that I found, this is probably my favourite, it's beautiful in a sad sort of way.)
> 
> I sort of wanted to use this chapter to reflect what Elizabeth and Jacob are thinking about each other, rather than what they're saying to one another; I'm trying not to write too dialogue heavy, it's one of my pet hates. Hopefully in the next chapter I'm going to get down to some Steampunk descriptions and things and I might introduce a couple of the memories from Marx/Darwin/Dickens before I get back to the Soothing Syrup plot, but we'll see! 
> 
> Feedback is always welcome!


	10. Chapter 10

When Elizabeth awoke the next morning it was still early and she was woken by the steady pitter patter of rain on the carriage roof. Sitting up on the Chaise, she saw Jacob laid in his bed snoring softly with his shirt missing and in a heap on the floor. 

Grabbing her hair pins, jacket and boots, Elizabeth silently left Jacob’s carriage and moved into the main compartment where Agnes was awake at her desk and Henry was looking over the children while they slept.

“Good morning,” Henry greeted her quietly with a warm smile as she took a seat at another table and pulled on her shoes before making a start on braiding her hair. 

“Good morning Jayadeep,” she smiled. “Been busy have we?” 

“So so,” he shrugged one shoulder. “The Rooks tell me you and Jacob made light work of finding out where the Soothing Syrup comes from?”

“Yes,” she nodded, pinning her braid into a bun on the back of her head. “There’s a distillery by the brewery, we’re going to go over there today and have a little look around.”

“Then perhaps you will have to do it later,” Jayadeep said, holding up her jacket for her to slide her arms into. “Mr. Bell requires assistance at his shop; Evie and I cannot go, I’m meeting her at Kenway Mansion to follow a lead about the shroud, I said you and Jacob would pop by.”

“Alright,” she gave a nod. “When Jacob wakes up we’ll leave right away.”

“No reason not to wake him now, Elizabeth,” Jayadeep smiled. “You seem to be getting on quite well.”

“Not as good as you and Evie I’d wager,” she gave him a smirk. “I’ll wake him.”

“Very well,” he nodded with a smile. “I must go and meet Miss Frye. Perhaps we will cross paths later.”

“I hope so,” Elizabeth smiled.

“Until then,” Jayadeep took her hand a pressed a kiss to the top of her palm before he took off, leaving Elizabeth to wake Jacob from his slumber. 

\---

Leaving the children to sleep, Elizabeth returned to Jacob’s carriage where he still snored softly. She gave a frown as she looked him over, she didn’t really want to wake him up and go running off on another mission when he really needed to rest but they had no choice in the matter. 

She walked to the side of the bed he slept on and inspected him as she stood over him. The sheets were bundled around his hips, his bare torso on show. He laid on his back with one arm above his head and the other hanging off of the side of the bed. 

He had a broad chest that rose and fell gently with each breath he drew and let go and she’d never seen him look less threatening in all the time she’d known him. Should she touch him to wake him? Shake his shoulder? Tap his chest? 

“Mister Frye?” she questioned softly. 

There was a tattoo of a raven on the left side of his chest, something that looked like a cross on his left arm and a shilling on a leather chain around his neck that sat on his collarbone. His chest was littered with scars, some a faint line of pink, some a furious slash of purple indicating just how deep they were.

Jacob never flinched at the mention of his name and continued to sleep soundly as the train carried on down the tracks. 

“Jacob?” Elizabeth said a little more loudly, but he still never roused from his slumber; he must’ve been tired or the rum must’ve knocked him out.

She straightened up her jacket before perching herself on the edge of his bed taking care not to catch his outstretched arm as she did so. 

“Wake up,” she said, laying a hand on his chest. “Henry gave us a mission.”

A groan came from his chest and he turned on his side with his back to her, showing his broad shoulders as he curled into a ball.

“Jacob, get up,” she shoved him delicately not wanting to cause him anymore pain than he was already in. 

“It’s too early,” he grunted. 

“Tough,” she said, reaching out to him again. “Henry said we have to go and see Mr. Bell this morning.”

“If you shove me once more you are going to be in a lot of trouble,” he mumbled from the pillow. “Just a fair warning, love.”

“Get up,” she nudged him once more but Jacob got the upper hand.

He pulled her arm effectively pulling her onto the bed before he pinned her down and gave her a drowsy look.

“I did warn you,” he lazily lifted a brow. “See what happens?”

“Get off,” she growled, but he held her arm down and pinned her body down with his own; the smirk on his lips told her he was enjoying this more than he should be. “Get off or I’ll throw you off.”

“Go ahead, little Rook,” he smirked, showing his teeth. “I doubt you could.”

And he wasn’t wrong, Jacob might have looked thin but he was heavy and he was strong and as she pushed against him to push him off, he pushed back with every muscle in his body tensing against Elizabeth beneath him. 

“Jacob, get off of me,” she tried to fight back but she was weak against him. “Get off of me right now.”

“But we were just starting to have fun,” he purred, his face dangerously close to hers, the shilling around his neck almost touching her own neck. 

“No Jacob,” she shoved against him once more and earned herself a smirk for trying. “ _You_ were just starting to have fun.” 

“Not even one little kiss?” he asked, gaining an incredulous look from the woman beneath him.

“Get _off_ ,” she said raising her gauntlet to his head; stupid really that he’d chosen to pin the arm that was the least dangerous. “Or so help me god I will hurt you.”

“Well I do like a feisty bird,” he crooned with a wink. “Keeps me on my toes.”

He dipped his head, catching her neck with his warm breath and nothing more before he climbed off of her and began to pull his clothes back on.

“You’re insufferable Jacob Frye,” she said venomously. 

“Heard worse,” he grinned, buttoning up his shirt. “Wasn’t like you complained right away love, you could’ve put your blade to my throat anytime you wanted. Just admit it; _you liked it_.”

“Next time I’ll do what Henry asks _us_ to do by _myself_ ,” she said, storming into the next carriage, leaving Jacob chuckling to himself as he pulled on his coat, boots and hat.

\---

“You know that’d be preposterous,” Jacob said, landing beside her as they jumped off of the train into the wet London morning. 

“What would?” she said shortly, glaring out of the corner of her eye.

“Doing what Greenie asks on your own,” Jacob said, leading the way. “Besides, you know you love working with me.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and wandered off in front, eager to find some refuge away from the rain that fell. 

It wasn’t a long walk to Bell’s shop but by the time they arrived they were sodden and cold and looking about as miserable as the weather, but Bell’s shop was warm and comfortable and they were pleased at least for that. 

“Henry said he was sendin’ you two,” Bell grinned as he spoke in his thick Scottish accent. “I hope it isn’t too much bother for you.”

“We were in the middle of something,” Jacob started but Elizabeth gave him a swift kick in the ankle before she strode forwards.

“None at all, Alec,” she smiled. “What is it that we can do for you?”

“Have you seen Moriarty’s latest lies?” he asked, lifting the newspaper.

“Lies? In a newspaper?” Jacob said sarcastically. 

“What came of the new line you were establishing?” Elizabeth asked, remembering the time she helped Evie and Mr. Bell before.

“The cables we ordered, they never arrived,” Alec answered. “But then we intercepted this.” 

He handed Jacob a sheet of paper before he smiled at Elizabeth and leant against his workbench. 

“Cargo seized at College Warf?” Jacob questioned.

“They took the cables,” Elizabeth said. “We’ll get them back, come on Mister Frye.”

“Oh er, hang on, Miss Moran,” Alec gave her another smile. “We intercepted another wire that contained a recipie for a hallucinogenic serum.”

Elizabeth and Jacob both gave Mr. Bell the same oddly surprised look before he picked something up from the table.

“I’ve adapted a dart mechanism to fit your gauntlets,” he said handing one item to Jacob and the other to Elizabeth.

“You’re a genius Alec,” Jacob grinned. 

“Not technically true, but,” he said raising a hand. “I have discovered that the serum adopts the form of gas when subjected to heat.”

“Something tells me that will come in handy,” Elizabeth gave a smile. “Thank you for these, Alec. We’ll return your cargo to you.”

“No, thank you,” he smiled. “I’ll be seeing you later then?” 

“Most definitely,” Elizabeth gave a nod before she led the way out of the shop with Jacob behind her, fiddling with his shiny new addition on his gauntlet.

“I think Alec likes you,” he said as they walked, navigating their way to College Warf.

“And I still think you’re insufferable,” Elizabeth answered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I probably won't update now until Friday unless I have a spare hour or so tomorrow which is a shame because I think Jacob and Elizabeth are going to get up to all kinds of things regarding Bell's seized cargo. 
> 
> But once again, thank you for reading and feedback is always welcome! :)


	11. Chapter 11

As they neared the Warf, a thick fog descended over the city along with the rain. Horses and traps rattled by them splashing through the puddles and people hurried by them with umbrellas over their heads.

Both Jacob and Elizabeth had their hoods up and kept their heads down as they reached the banks of the Thames. They clambered on to the roof of a factory building near by and Elizabeth spotted a ship that was crawling with Blighter’s. 

“Think it could be that?” she asked Jacob begrudgingly. 

“Probably,” he shrugged one shoulder, picking up on her tone; she really was angry with him. 

“Good,” she answered, firing her zip wire to the mast of a nearby ship. 

Jacob watched as she pulled herself up to the top of the mast and looked down; she was crouched with her arms out to balance herself as she looked at the group of thugs. He followed after her, perching himself on a lower down mast seeing that the thugs were stood around a brazier. 

There were three of them and they were standing guard by three Rooks who were bound and gagged. Elizabeth fired another zip wire, this time onto a sheltered roof by the Warf and pulled herself along until she was on the roof as Jacob followed behind her. 

“What’s the plan, little Rook?” Jacob asked but only gained an irritated sigh. 

“You kill the thugs, I’ll get the cargo,” she answered. “Remember what Alec said about the darts and heat; use the braziers. A little less fighting might do you a world of good.”

“And what about The Rooks?” Jacob asked; he could formulate the plan all by himself but he was giving Elizabeth a chance here to prove herself, to show her skills. 

“Get rid of the thugs and I’ll take care of them,” she answered, turning back to the three around the brazier. 

“With pleasure,” Jacob gave a smirk and lifted his gauntlet, firing off one of Bell’s darts into the heart of brazier. 

A gas poured out of the brazier, engulfing two of the Blighter’s who instantly turned on one another as the third tried to break them apart. It wasn’t long before they were all dead on the floor and without another word, Elizabeth climbed down from the roof and attended to The Rooks, leaving Jacob once more to watch after her. 

“Hello boys,” she smiled at the three in front of her as she made a start on untying their bindings and gags. “Got ourselves into a spot of bother have we?” 

“We were outnumbered Ma’am,” one of them answered her. “But we’re grateful you’re here.”

“No bother boys,” she smiled with a salute. “See you around.” 

While Elizabeth had been busy freeing the Rooks, Jacob had been having fun with the darts and had managed to successfully put all the Blighter’s down without so much as revealing his blade leaving the crates unguarded for Elizabeth to loot. 

She crept around with her hood up and pried open each crate in turn, revealing the seized cables inside as Jacob watched on from the roof. As she pried open the last crate, Jacob spotted a Blighter ship and Elizabeth heard her name.

Jacob ran for the ship first and Elizabeth could hear the Blighter’s aboard as she ran towards the banks of the Thames.

“There’s trouble on the docks!” she heard one of the Blighter’s as she ran and saw Jacob vault aboard. “We need to get this load to Moriarty now!”

Jacob had already made a start on fighting which she had told him not to do and she could see him swinging his cane sword as she ran along side the ship before vaulting from boat to boat before she jumped from post to post in the Thames before throwing herself aboard.

She flung her brass knuckles into the face of a Blighter and used her concealed blade to put him on the floor before she saw Jacob surrounded by three thugs and looking as though he was struggling. 

She knocked the feet out from beneath one of them and stamped on his chest before she put herself between Jacob and a Blighter’s blade that slashed down the length of her arm as she raised it in defence. 

“That really hurt,” she growled before grabbing his arm, stabbing him with her blade and kicking him overboard before Jacob made light work of the last thug. 

“Are you alright?” Jacob asked as she looked at her bloody arm. “Looks bad.”

“I’ll be fine,” she dismissed his worry. “The crate.” 

She nodded to the crate before they hurried over to it and Jacob jammed his blade inside to open it up before a large green cloud erupted from it and they both sprang backwards with their hands over their mouths and noses.

“It’s poison,” Jacob said, pulling Elizabeth away. “I’m sure Alec will be thrilled to know about this.” 

“Lets go,” Elizabeth said, starting to feel a little sick and light headed from the fumes. 

“A stellar plan,” he answered her as they jumped from the boat onto the docks. “I’m sure Alec will want his cargo back.”

\---

Jacob led the way back while Elizabeth cradled her injured arm, the wound stretching from her elbow and twisting around her arm where it ended on the top of her hand. 

“You didn’t have to,” Jacob said as he peered over his shoulder at her. “I could have taken it.”

“You’ve been hurt enough,” she said; her voice still had an angered edge but it had softened since earlier this morning. 

“I didn’t know you _cared_ ,” he smirked trying to control his mirth. 

Elizabeth didn’t answer him and when he turned to look at her, she was doubled over, clutching her arm tightly. 

“Let me see,” Jacob leant forwards but she turned away. “You’re really hurt love.”

“Let’s get to Bell’s shop first,” she said through clenched teeth. “I can make it.”

Whether Jacob believed her or not she didn’t know, but he wrapped his arm around her and pulled her along the street until they reached the door of Bell’s shop. 

Jacob led her inside and they heard Bell make a sound of pain.

“Careful there, Mr. Bell,” Elizabeth gave a pained smile as Alec turned around. 

“Seems like you’re the one that needs to be careful,” he said nodding to her arm. “Are you alright?”

“Perfectly,” she nodded.

“She’s lying,” Jacob said, still holding her up. 

“We got the cables,” Elizabeth said, changing the subject.

“I know,” Alec answered.

“How?” Jacob frowned. “We only just got here.”

“We have entered the age of communication, remember?” Alec gave him a grin. “We already recived word from Greenwich that the shipment has arrived safely, thanks to you.”

“Have you discovered what else was in that shipment?” Elizabeth asked, falling a little limp against Jacob; her arm was stinging and the pain was shooting through her body.

“Indeed,” Alec said, looking her over with an air of concern. “I’m afraid Moriarty’s poison has found its way onto the open market.”

“If he thinks that will stop us, he’s mistaken,” Jacob answered him as Elizabeth clutched onto his coat. “Forgive me Alec, I have to take her back to the train.”

“That’s quite alright Jacob,” he gave a nod. “Keep an eye on the wee girl, and thank you for your time and efforts.”

“No doubt you’ll see us again, Alec,” Elizabeth said, her voice weak. 

“I hope so,” Alec said before turning back to what he was doing.

Jacob pulled Elizabeth out into the street but her knees buckled under her and Jacob caught her before she hit the floor. He hoisted her over his shoulder, taking care not to catch her arm and carried her back to the train where he laid her on his bed and pulled off her coat. 

There was a rip through the leather; that Blighter’s knife had been sharp. He gently cleaned the wound as she watched him with half lidded eyes, flinching slightly every time he touched the wound.

“You need to sleep, love,” Jacob said as he began to wind a bandage around the wound that had finally begun to clot. “You don’t need to watch what I’m doing.”

She gave a weak smile and flexed her fingers gently, feeling the tendons pull at the wound before Jacob took hold of her hand making her stop.

“Keep your arm still,” he smiled. “Let the wound clot.”

Her fingers tensed gently around his as she gave him a resolute smile and he gently squeezed her fingers back. 

“Still mad at me, little Rook?” he asked, still holding onto her hand. 

“Only slightly,” she said. “I’m always only slightly mad at you.”

“Am I really that bad?” he raised a brow, a lazy smile on his lips.

“The worst,” she said, mirroring his smile as she closed her eyes.

“Get some rest, love,” Jacob stroked his thumb over her fingers that were loosely clasped around his own. 

“No running off to do missions on your own,” she warned him. “Jayadeep will rat you out to me.”

“Cross my heart,” Jacob promised as he let go of her hand and stood, stroking the hair back from her forehead. “Sleep well, little Rook.” 

“Not even one little kiss?” she opened one eye, remembering Jacob’s words from this morning. 

“Nice try, love,” he smirked, rubbing a thumb gently over her right cheek. “Get to sleep.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so spending a lazy Sunday in bed writing. It's so dark and rainy today I could think of nothing better to do :)


	12. Chapter 12

Whilst Elizabeth slept the night away aboard the train in the company of Jacob whilst Evie and Jayadeep read, Sebastian was at a Fight Club in Whitechapel. The place was heaving with people; men, women, children of all ages and backgrounds.

He’d won five rounds already, his blonde hair plastered to his forehead and the bindings around his knuckles stained crimson. After his sixth go he was declared champion and received an award of just short of one thousand pounds. 

The club had started to empty out and as Sebastian pulled on his grubby shirt, he saw three men approach him out of the corner of his eye.

“You’re a stellar fighter,” a voice said from behind him; there was an Irish twang to the voice but it wasn’t displeasing. “I could use a brute like you.”

Sebastian turned around, his eyes falling upon a man shorter than him. He had an almost floor length jet black leather coat covering his body and a top hat encircled with a violet band of ribbon sitting on top of his head. There were black whiskers on his chin to match his bushy sideburns that covered his jaw line. 

The mans head was bowed but Sebastian sensed a smirk on his face. He was stood leant on a cane with hands covered in black leather gloves and either side of him stood two men in their crimson Blighter glory. 

“And who exactly are you and what is it you want with me?” Sebastian raised a blonde brow as he shoved his hand through his dirty blonde hair. 

And then Sebastian saw the mark on the upper arm of the mans coat; the crimson Templar cross.

“ _Moriarty,_ “ the man lifted his head to reveal a sharp and poisonous smile but it was his eyes that made Sebastian stiffen; they were such a deep dark brown that they were almost black. “James Moriarty; you’ve heard of me I’m sure.”

Sebastian gave a curt nod as the two men either side of Moriarty drew a little closer but that didn’t stir a reaction out of Sebastian; they were half his height and a third of his weight and Moriarty wasn’t that far behind them. 

“What say you?” Moriarty’s smooth Irish tone filled his ears and the man oscillated his head slowly with his dark eyes looking Sebastian up and down. “Red might just be your colour.”

\---

It was the middle of the afternoon when Elizabeth finally awoke the next day. There was still a slight pain in her arm, but not enough to confine her back to bed. Her hair was stuck up all over the place, her coat was laid over the back of Jacob’s vacant chair and her boots were at the foot of the bed. 

After she’d pulled on her boots, she pinned her hair back up and inspected her arm; it needed a new bandage. She bathed it carefully inspecting the furious slash of crimson as she did so. It wasn’t as deep as it felt but it had still done a lot of damage, plenty more than enough to leave one hell of a scar. 

After she’d wrapped it back up she inspected her coat and sighed when she saw the rip in the sleeve. As she tossed it back over the chair, she heard the carriage door click and when she turned, she saw Jacob looking back at her with something draped over his arm. 

“You’re up,” he said, slightly surprised. “Greenie thought you’d be out until at least tomorrow. How are you feeling?”

“Better,” she answered simply, turning her arm this way and that to make sure she’d bandaged it up tightly enough. “I think I need a new jacket.” 

Jacob gave a grin before he lifted up what was draped over his arm and laid it over the bed, smoothing it out at Elizabeth wandered to his side to have a look.

“Greenie had this made for you at Bell’s shop,” Jacob explained. “Said it was about time you had some decent gear. He has new weapons for you too.”

“It’s beautiful,” Elizabeth admired the garment, running her hand over it. 

“May I?” Jacob asked, lifting it up before Elizabeth nodded her head and allowed Jacob to slip it onto her shoulders. 

It was a magnificent coat. Wine red in colour with a black and red lace bustle and black cuffs. The arms were reinforced with thick, black leather and the jacket itself was double breasted, fastening with huge, beautiful black buttons. It fitted perfectly, curving in at her sides and out again as it reached her hips with the bustle reaching the back of her knees.

“Suits you,” Jacob said, perching himself on the edge of the bed before Elizabeth looked at him.

“You have new clothes too,” she said narrowing her eyes. “Do we match on purpose?”

Jacob gave a thin smile and bowed his head; it was Greenie’s idea and not one he’d been overly fond of. He’d liked his old black coat and green waistcoat, now he had this wine red coat that came to his knees, a crimson neck scarf and a jet black waistcoat; there wasn't even a hint of green on him anywhere to show his support for The Rooks and he hated that.

“Not my idea,” Jacob said, fiddling with one of the belts around his middle. “Greenies.” 

“Charming,” she answered, pulling her coat straight. “You said something about new weapons?”

“Greenie and Evie are out,” Jacob said leaning back on his forearms as he leant his head towards Elizabeth. “Following a lead or something, I don’t know. Canoodling, probably. Greenie left them up front with Agnes. But they are out of the way of the children.”

“Do you have to be so vulgar?” she asked, making sure her hair was neat. 

“I’m probably not wrong,” Jacob narrowed his eyes, drumming his fingers on top of the bed sheets. 

“Where are the children?” she asked, changing the subject.

“Gone to the market with Agnes,” Jacob said, tipping his top hat up so he could see her. “Be out all day probably. So it’s just me and you, _love_.”

Elizabeth gave a short laugh before she stood over him, kicking at his boot gently. 

“We have business to attend to, Mister Frye,” she reminded him. “The Soothing Syrup?”

“And here’s me thinking I might get ever so lucky,” he gave her a wink that she rolled her eyes at. “What say you Little Rook?”

“Lucky? You?” she snorted as he kicked her boot. “You’re as crooked as they come, Jacob. Besides, that’s a fine thing coming from your mouth, you denied me a kiss last night.”

“You denied me a kiss yesterday morning,” he countered. “Tit for tat, love.”

“That’s childish,” she raised a brow before she kicked his boot again. “But never mind. Business, Jacob. Now.”

“You’re alright to fight?” he queried, sitting up.

“I think so,” she nodded. “If I’m not, good luck.”

“Cheeky sod.” 

Jacob gave her a gentle shove as he stood before he followed her into the main carriage where books and papers were littering every surface and even the floor; Evie and Henry were really taking their research seriously.

Elizabeth found a new belt complete with a beautifully crafted Kukri, a pouch of throwing knives and her gauntlet that had been tweaked and played with. Jacob watched as she slid it on and flexed her fingers, admiring the handiwork before she fastened her belt around her and picked up and holstered her firearm. 

“Ready?” he asked, admiring how she looked before she nodded.

They left the train to a bright, sunny afternoon and strolled down the tracks in no great hurry to be anywhere. They walked in silence for a short while until they reached the main streets where they walked shoulder to shoulder to watch one anothers backs. 

“Did you really mean the whole _tit for tat_ spiel?” Elizabeth asked as they cut down an alleyway. 

“You get back what you give,” Jacob said as he glanced at a group of dirty, barefoot children playing cricket in the mud. “You didn’t kiss me, I don’t kiss you. Quite simple really.”

“Insufferable,” she sighed deeply before she heard Jacob’s deep laugh from her side. “It shouldn’t work that way.” 

They took a left and climbed over some old foundations that perhaps belonged to an old house that had been knocked down before they hopped over a fence and into another main street. 

“Well how should it work then?” Jacob said, glancing over his shoulder as Elizabeth looked ahead. “Enlighten me wouldn’t you?” 

“Not tit for tat,” she snorted. “You should do something because you want to do it; not because somebody else didn’t do it.”

“What makes you think I wanted to kiss you?” Jacob smirked and Elizabeth turned crimson realising she’d walked into Jacob’s perfect little trap. 

“That’s not what I was getting at,” she said feeling the heat rise in her face. 

“Then what were you getting at?” he asked, nudging her shoulder with another smirk. “Because you’ve turned very very pink, Miss Moran.” 

She gave Jacob an incredulous look as she caught his hazel eyes but all he could do was smile, enjoying the fact that he was making her uncomfortable. 

“We can spend the rest of this mission in silence if that’s what you really want,” she said, looking forwards once more as she regained her bravado. “Because that can seriously be arranged.”

They took a right down another alleyway, this one noticeably quieter than the last with less people passing through. As they took a left, Jacob pulled Elizabeth to the side and trapped her against the wall in the dark archway away from the busy street beside them. 

“Did you think I wanted to kiss you?” he asked, his palms flat to the wall either side of her head as she peered up at him, slightly fearful. “And be honest.”

“Perhaps,” she said after a beat. “I don’t know how you think, Frye.”

The right side of Jacob’s mouth pulled up into a perfect half smile before he removed his top hat and ran a hand through his tousled chestnut hair.

“And nor do I know how _you think_ , Miss Moran,” he said stepping back. “But I think I’d like to kiss you just as much as you’d like to kiss me, don’t you think so?”

“I’m not answering that question,” she raised a brow before Jacob imprisoned her between his arms again, his hat now back on his head where it belonged. “We have things to do Jacob.”

Jacob’s face was no longer in front of hers but now dangerously close to her neck, his warm breath tickling at her exposed skin as she tried not to move and show weakness; she wanted nothing more than to grab hold of him and run her hands through his long hair and if Jacob wanted to kiss her just as much as she wanted to kiss him then they’d both be in for a world of trouble. 

She absently moved her head towards his, leaning into the warmth of his breath before she heard him give a hum of a laugh in the back of his throat. 

“Just what I thought,” he whispered in her ear before his lips met her cheek, lingering there for a moment longer than necessary. 

Elizabeth allowed her eyes to flicker shut for the briefest moment before she felt the absence of his lips and glanced up at him as he stood back up right. 

“Business, Miss Moran?” Jacob gave a smirk, revelling in her dazed expression before he straightened up his hat and held his hand out to his left to show the way. “Shall we?” 

She blinked hard and pulled herself away from the wall before she stood at the side of him and glanced up at him and scowled. 

“What?” he gave a laugh as they continued on their way to the distillery, still walking close together.

“Tell me,” she said, absently touching her cheek where he’d kissed her. “Do you get a kick out of being _right_ all the time?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> I'm so so so sorry I haven't updated in what seems like forever, works been manic and I haven't had a lot of time to do much writing :( plus the weathers been really horrible and cold and I've also not really wanted to do much else other than hide in a blanket fort where it's warm.
> 
> I hope this update makes up for my absence. (plus I have all week off of work so hopefully I'll get a few more updates going before I go back!)
> 
> feedback, comments and kudos as always are more than welcome :)


	13. Chapter 13

The sun was high in the smog filled sky when Jacob and Elizabeth finally reached their destination. With their zip wires, they raced one another up the building facing the distillery and peered down.

Or rather Jacob peered down from where he perched on a wooden beam that jutted out from the side of the building. Elizabeth on the other hand stood on the very edge of the rooftop and stared upwards at the vast underside of the great ship Phantasmagoria that shadowed the ground below.

“Interesting,” Jacob mused from his perch, gaining her attention. “Look.”

With steady footing Elizabeth joined Jacob on the beam keeping her balance as she stood upright whilst he remained crouched.

A white haired old gentleman was snooping about and they watched as he picked up an empty crate and used it to stand on so he could peer into a dirty window. They then watched him pick up the heavy padlock that kept the doors chained shut before a gang of Blighters scared him into hiding in a small hut.

“He looks familiar,” Elizabeth narrowed her eyes.

“This will complicate things,” Jacob said, watching as the Blighters surrounded the place. “It’s crawling with them.”

Elizabeth eyed a stack of hanging barrels over the main door and pulled out one of her throwing knives.

“Have patience,” she said, patting him on the shoulder before aiming her knife.

It only took a few minutes for more than three Blighters to be stood by the door and when Elizabeth released the knife that cut the rope, all four of them were crushed to death. 

Jacob looked at her almost dumbfounded as she pulled up her hood and walked the edge of the roof to a second beam that jutted out and whilst all on the ground were concerned with the fallen barrels, she took a leap of faith and landed neatly in a near by hay cart.

Then he heard her whistle to a nearby Blighter before she slit his throat and pulled him into the cart before she jumped out, prompting the remaining Blighters into a fight as Jacob scurried down the building to help. 

Whilst Jacob head butted and punched his way through the Blighters with his brass knuckles, Elizabeth tore and slashed her way through them with her perfectly sharp brand new Kukri and between them in no time at all, all the Blighters that had been surrounding the place now surrounded the two of them in bruised and bleeding heaps on the floor.

“Bloody good show,” Jacob turned to Elizabeth with a smile. “I’m impressed.”

“There’s time for that later,” she said, sheathing her Kukri and walking towards the door. 

She picked up the padlock and dropped it in surprise when the white haired gentleman crept up on her and Jacob put himself between him and her, showing the white haired gentleman his concealed blade before he pushed it out of his face. 

“You should not go about frightening respectable gentleman, young man,” he scalded him before looking past him to Elizabeth. “And neither should a pretty young lady.” 

“I didn’t realise snooping was considered gentlemanly,” Jacob took two paces forwards before Elizabeth gently grasped the back of his coat, looking curiously at the man before them.

“Snooping Sir?! I assure you-”

“Keep vigilant!” 

A small group of Blighters walked by the entrance luckily not looking their way but Elizabeth let go of Jacobs jacket, picked up the padlock and smashed it off with her gauntlet before pulling the quibbling pair inside out of sight. 

“That was too close a call,” the white haired man scalded the pair of them this time as Elizabeth and Jacob glanced at one another. “You both gave me quite a fright, I thought you were with them but I realise now why you’re both here.”

He began to walk away and Elizabeth nodded towards him, indicating that they should probably follow him.

“The same reason I am, I imagine…” he said trailing off.

“I imagine?” Jacob questioned.

“I believe I found something,” he said as they stopped to peer up at something. “Rather impressive contraption wouldn’t you say?”

“I’ve seen bigger,” Elizabeth said raising a brow as Jacob gave a snort of laughter.

“Datura stramonium,” the man said peering at something on a table before them.

“More commonly known as Devils Snare,” Elizabeth said, catching Jacob’s half smile as he looked at her; he was enjoying working with her today, she was just full of surprises.

“That goes into the syrup?” the man thought aloud. “And opium no less. Revolting.”

He began to wander off again and Jacob raised a brow at Elizabeth who was still pondering the items on the table now with a sick stomach; Sebastian had given the syrup to the children when they’d been ill to send them off to sleep, no wonder it had been so effective if it had opium in it.

With a shake of her head she followed after the man and Jacob followed after her with a puzzled look on his face.

“A favourable way to proceed,” the man said looking at Elizabeth with his hands upon a valve that connected to the machine. “Wouldn’t you agree?”

He turned the valve and a green gas emitted from the contraption as they all stumbled back and away.

“Find a way out of here, quickly,” Jacob said, speaking both to the man and Elizabeth. 

“But what about the other valves?” the man fretted.

“We’ll sort them,” Elizabeth said, going to rush by Jacob.

“ _We_?” he said, grabbing her wrist.

“ _We_ , Mister Frye,” she said with a smile and a quick kiss to his cheek. “I’ll see you back outside.”

Jacob watched as she climbed up to the highest floor before he heard the strangled cries of Blighters and took to work himself. He put the Blighters on his floor down and turned the valves before climbing up to Elizabeth’s floor to escape the fumes.

While she battled two brutes, Jacob turned the valves before he heard Elizabeth scream in pain followed by ‘ _that fucking hurt_ ‘ and the sound of a heavy body falling. By the time he reached her, she was pulling her kukri out of one of the brutes stomachs and rubbing the top of her injured arm.

“Alright?” Jacob asked as the fumes rose.

“I’ll live,” she coughed. “Though not much longer if you and I stay in this place. We have to get out.”

“There’s one more valve love,” Jacob said. “Come on.”

Jacob fired his line up and Elizabeth grabbed hold of him, hitching a ride up before they took on another set of Blighters. With Jacob fighting them with ease, Elizabeth pulled one big lever in the floor and the machine started to buckle and leak even more gas.

“We should probably go now,” Jacob grabbed Elizabeth’s hand as he ran by her.

They jumped from pipe to railing to chain and finally to a wall before Jacob put a rounded window through and they performed a leap of faith together as the factory went up in smoke and flame. They helped one another out of the hay cart they’d landed in before they hurried away from the area and found themselves face to face with the white haired man again.

“Well done, the both of you,” he said. “Glad to make your acquaintance, I’m-”

“Charles Darwin,” Elizabeth smiled. “I knew I knew that face, I’m a fan of your work. I’m Elizabeth Moran and this is my partner, Jacob Frye.”

“Charmed, Miss Moran,” Darwin gave a slight bow. “While the pair of you were wreaking havoc, I found this. It indicates that a sample of every batch has been sent to Lambeth Asylum.”

“Wonder if it’s visiting hours,” Jacob raised a brow with a smirk at Elizabeth which to his surprise, she actually mirrored. 

“Don’t be so hasty, either of you,” Darwin moved his gaze between the pair. “Many people work at Lambeth, you wouldn’t want to attract any unwanted attention.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Elizabeth sighed and Jacob smirked; it was all fine and dandy Greenie and Evie giving Jacob a goody two shoes to keep him on his toes, but he reckoned they’d never banked on his satirical wit rubbing off onto her.

“Not every problem can be solved by blowing things sky high,” Darwin warned. “Sometimes a little _discression_ is in order.”

“Blowing things sky high is fun though,” Elizabeth muttered to herself as she looked at the burning building then at Jacob who was still grinning. 

“It’s getting late,” Darwin said, patting Jacob on the shoulder. “I will meet you both soon at the Asylum to continue our investigation.”

“Oh _goody_ ,” Elizabeth said sarcastically as they watched Darwin vanish into a market crowd. “I do so love an asylum.”

“Come on,” Jacob laughed slightly. “Reckon we’ve earned a drink for all our troubles.”

She watched him stalk ahead as she smirked and caught him up.

“ _Our_ troubles?” she said. “Why, Mister Frye, I do believe it was I who fought off most of the Blighters.”

“And I do so believe, Miss Moran,” Jacob said pulling her down an alley. “It was I who got us out of the building was it not?”

“It was so,” she shrugged one shoulder as they lingered in the alley; it was dark now and the only light in the alley came from the lamplight in the windows that overlooked the street below. 

“And I do so believe you kissed me back, Miss Elizabeth,” Jacob said in a low but quiet voice, forcing Elizabeth to lean closer to hear him. “Tit for tat, was it?”

“No,” she smiled after a beat as she laid her hand on his arm. “I told you, it shouldn’t be that way, Frye. I did it because I wanted to.”

Her fingers gently grasped at his arm as he looked at her hand then at her face, but she was looking at the dirty floor beneath her boots. With a calloused hand, Jacob tipped her chin upwards so she was looking at his face.

All the stars above reflected back in her glassy green eyes, but there was a sadness in those beautiful eyes and Jacob frowned.

“Why so glum Little Rook?” he asked, his hand still under her chin, her arm still gently grasping his arm; they'd had a good day had they not? What did she have to be upset about?.

“I gave the children that syrup, as did Sebastian, to help them sleep,” she gave a sad smile. “We were poisoning them.”

“You didn’t know, Elizabeth,” Jacob trailed a thumb over her cheek. “Most of the City doesn’t know what’s in that god awful stuff, but we’re going to stop it, you and me, and no one else will ever suffer the side effects again.”

And she believed him. There was a surety in his voice and the tone of will and determination spoke volumes. 

“We make a good team, you and I,” she smiled, squeezing his arm again but this time a little tighter. 

“I loathe to agree with you,” Jacob smirked but then pressed a delicate kiss to her forehead which she instantly frowned at.

“What?” he asked, removing his hand from her chin as she raised a brow. “ _I wanted to._ Now I don‘t know about you, but I could use that drink we deserve right about now.”

With a smile and a shake of her head, she let the hand that had been grasping his arm fall to his fingers where she held onto them loosely before pulling him through the rest of the alleyway to the nearest pub.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well, i just had my nails done and its so hard to type with stiletto tips so please excuse any typing errors.
> 
> I quite enjoyed writing this one, I'll try and update again at the weekend!
> 
> thank you again for all your wonderful comments, kudos and bookmarking; it's what keeps me writing!
> 
> comments and kudos once more are greatly appreciated, thanks for reading! :)


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> notes at the beginning because of terminology!
> 
> phrenology; the detailed study of the shape and size of the cranium as a supposed indication of character and mental abilities.  
> mesmerism; the therapeutic system of F. A. Mesmer (in general use) hypnotism.
> 
> comments & kudos is once again greatly appreciated! thank you for all the hits and kudos, you guys are wonderful <3

After spending the morning out with the children, Elizabeth returned to the train at St. Pancreas and found only Jacob and Agnes aboard. Elizabeth had picked up a few things for Agnes and tossed Jacob a shining red apple with a smile as she passed by with the children in tow.

“I’ve had a letter from Darwin,” Jacob shouted after her with a mouthful of apple. “He’s meeting us at one on the dot.”

“That’s in an hours time, Jacob,” Elizabeth sighed. “I’ll change and we’ll leave.”

“You goin’ again Miss?” Toliver gave a pout and Elizabeth gave a sad smile.

“Yes,” she said, stroking his dark hair back. “I promise soon that Jacob and I will tell you everything. But for now I need you both to be brave and to be good, okay?”

“Okay,” Mary said in a small voice as Toliver nodded. 

Leaving the children with Jacob, Elizabeth quickly changed and met him back in the previous carriage as she pulled on her gauntlet and tidied up her jacket. She gave the children a kiss each and promised she’d be back to put them to bed before she thanked Agnes and left the train with Jacob.

“We’re heading to Lambeth, right?” she asked as she walked by Jacob’s side. “To the asylum?”

“Glad you remembered,” he said, eyeing up a carriage across the street they’d walked on to. 

“How could I forget?” she muttered.

“You don’t seem at all keen on this little venture,” he said, peering at her out of the corner of his eye. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. Probably.”

“That probably doesn’t exactly fill me with delight, Frye,” she scalded him. “An asylum is just not a nice place to be, they do terrible things.”

“Moriarty is doing terrible things, Elizabeth,” he turned to face her now, looming over her like a shadow. “This little venture is a thread to be pulled, a plot to unravel in his grand scheme of things. You need not to worry anyway, you have me by your side.”

“Ah yes,” she sighed deeply as Jacob eyed the unattended carriage once more. “ _My gallant hero_ , the laziest assassin in the whole of London.”

“You cheeky git,” Jacob growled under his breath but his lips held a smirk. 

“I did all the work yesterday,” she gave him a playful nudge.

“And I saved your life by getting us out of that building,” he said, shoving her back. “Not _that_ lazy.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and walked across the street with Jacob following at her heels. Making sure that no one was attending the carriage or sitting within it, they climbed onto opposing sides and took the carriage for themselves. 

\---

By the time they reached the asylum it had begun to rain and as they stood about outside, Jacob revealed to Darwin that he’d found the man behind the syrup; John Elliotson. 

“When did you find that out?” Elizabeth frowned at him; she’d been with him in the pub most of last night and he’d still been asleep when they’d left early this morning. 

“This morning while you were out with the children,” he gave her a hint of a smile and she saw a scab on his bottom lip; how had she missed a split lip?

“Dr. Elliotson, I haven’t heard that name in a long time,” Darwin frowned as they both turned their attention back to him. “A brilliant heart specialist until he became obsessed with phrenology and mesmerism. It ruined his career. How should we proceed?”

“With all respect, Mr Darwin,” Elizabeth stepped forwards. “I believe Mister Frye and I should proceed alone.”

“Miss Moran is right,” Jacob said, stepping to her side. “After all, we wouldn’t want to attract any _unwanted attention._ “

Elizabeth glanced at Jacob out of the corner of her eye and raised an eyebrow; that sarcastic bastard.

“Sounds very wise,” Darwin answered with just as much sarcasm. “Good luck my boy. You keep him in check, Miss Moran.”

“That’s my job,” she threw Darwin a smile before he disappeared off into the wet street, leaving the pair staring up at the asylum. 

“Let’s find a way in,” Elizabeth said, pulling up her hood. “Let’s find the good doctor.”

After clambering up and over a very wet and slippery roof, they found an open window and pulled themselves inside. Elizabeth blanched at the sight of the tiled walls and floors and the gurneys pushed up to the walls but she continued on behind Jacob who’d found his way to a window that overlooked a small auditorium.

Elizabeth looked down to see who she assumed was Elliotson stood over a man who was still alive as he twisted some kind of contraption in his skull. The mans cries of distress filled the room and as Elliotson pulled out the contraption, a tide of crimson blood followed and Elizabeth clapped her hand to her mouth and closed her eyes, turning away from the window; the man was dead. 

Jacob turned to Elizabeth as she drew a deep breath and he laid a hesitant hand on her shoulder before she turned to him. 

“We have to find a way in there,” she said. “We’ll split up.”

“Are you sure about that?” Jacob frowned, trying to catch her eye but she wouldn’t look at him. “I wouldn’t want-”

“I’ll be alright,” she assured him. “Let’s just get this over with.”

With a curt nod, Jacob walked by her in the opposing direction and she moved forwards, choosing not to look down through the window.

\---

After she’d scrambled back outside and across the courtyard to explore, she found a young nurse cowering in fear by a set of locked doors leading back outside when she’d found another way in.

The nurse gave her a fearful look but Elizabeth smiled to show her she meant to harm or malice.

“What’s the matter?” she asked the nurse who seemed to cower a little less. 

“Please help,” the nurse begged. “I must speak to Miss Nightingale at once but one of the brutes stole my key and I can’t get out of here.”

“Stay here,” Elizabeth assured her. “I might be able to help.”

Leaving the nurse where she was, Elizabeth left the way she came in and focussed all her concentration on using her eagle vision. She found her target on the second floor on the opposing side of the building and instead of killing the man and causing suspicion like Jacob would, she simply pick pocketed him and left quickly before he realised the keys were gone.

She could have gone straight to find Jacob, the keys would be a massive help, but she couldn’t leave the nurse cowering by the door; a little detour wouldn’t hurt. 

Once she’d unlocked the door and the nurse had thanked her, she took off to find Jacob, once more using her eagle vision. She found Jacob in the belly of the asylum, all she had to do was follow the trail of bodies right to him. 

“You’re going after the young doctor in the morgue aren’t you?” she said watching as he jumped in fright at her voice.

“How-”

“I see things better than you,” she shrugged one shoulder. “Or sense things. I don’t know which.”

“Either way you’re accompanying me into the morgue,” he gave a wry grin. “Where have you been anyway?”  
“Found these,” she held the keys up. “Saved a nurse. Didn’t kill anyone, which is more than what can be said for you.”

With a sigh, Jacob turned away and descended the stairs into the morgue with Elizabeth hurrying after him.

“I have a plan anyway,” Jacob said, seeming smug. “You’re going to steal and hide the body on the slab while I distract the young doctor. Then I’m going to take the place of the cadaver you stole and have myself delivered right to Elliotson.”

“You’re insane,” she said staring at him. “Remind me to have you committed on our way out of here.”

With a smirk, Jacob found his way into an adjoining room to the morgue with plenty of hiding spots. While he whistled and the doctor went to investigate, Elizabeth hauled the body from the slab and hid it behind a screen before she hid in the same place and whistled for the doctor so Jacob could do the next part of his idiotic plan.

Hidden behind another screen she watched Jacob lay atop the gurney and pull a sheet over his head before the doctor wheeled the gurney away and Elizabeth was left alone in the morgue. With nothing more to do, she snuck after the doctor and crept into the crowd in the auditorium to watch the main event. 

Jacob laid still as Elliotson talked about something to do with the brain and when the good doctor came to a pause, Jacob dived up, grabbed the man by the throat and thrust his concealed blade into his neck. 

Amidst the panic and chaos that ensued, Elizabeth saw Jacob wipe a crisp, white handkerchief across the neck of Elliotson, staining it bright crimson, before he turned and caught her eye. With a mutual nod, they darted in opposite directions, both fleeing the scene.

Elizabeth grabbed a carriage and when she finally saw Jacob, she whistled to him before she whipped the horses and they were away. Her heart was beating in her ears and Jacob was breathless beside her but god damn, she felt alive. 

She eventually stopped the carriage close to a train station and both of them climbed down, sticking to the backstreets and alleyways just to be on the safe side. When Jacob was sure no one was around, he grabbed Elizabeth by the shoulders and leant down to meet her face,

“We did it, Little Rook,” he said, a big, dumb grin covering his face. “The first of Moriarty’s clan is dead; how do you think he’s feeling?”

“Unphased,” Elizabeth frowned; she didn’t want to rain on his parade. “I know you’re happy, Jacob and while it is one down, Moriarty has no reason to be scared, not yet at least. But it was a good assassination, quick and clean.”

The smile came back to Jacob’s face, his hands squeezing her shoulders slightly. 

“Amidst everything,” he said. “I forgot to ask; are you alright?”

“Yes,” she nodded, this time meeting his face; god that smile highlighted everything on his face from the corners of his hazel eyes to the corners of his smiling lips. “I just don’t want to see that place again.”

“Elliotson is gone,” he assured her. “It will fall to better people to run and to take care of the patients. Now, enough of that. What say you, Little Rook? What now?”

His hands were still planted on her shoulders and there was an eagerness to his expression with a glint of mischief in his eyes. 

“There’s a Bounty Hunt in Whitechapel that a detective wanted me to see to, Abberline I think his name is,” Elizabeth said. “Fancy lending a hand?” 

“Ah, Freddie,” Jacob’s smile grew and Elizabeth’s knees weakened. “Of course, love. Shall we?”

Jacob nodded to the cart and Elizabeth watched after him, watching as he petted the horse on the nose, the gentle gesture warming her heart as she moved closer to him. 

“Why are you watching me?” Jacob asked, taking off his hat to scratch his head.

“I wasn’t,” she said, scrambling up to take the reigns. “I was just looking.”

“Seen something you like?” he said, leaning deliberately close to her as he sat beside her with his hat on his knee. 

_Yes_.

“No,” she said sharply. 

“If there’s one thing I know about you, and I don’t know much,” he said leaning towards her again. “It’s that you’re a _bloody bad liar, love._ “


	15. Chapter 15

Elizabeth spent most of the following day with Jayadeep wandering around Covent Garden in the beautiful sunshine. Dressed in her assassination garb but missing her coat, she walked with her arm through his and a contented smile across her face.

“I hear Elliotson’s assassination went well,” Jayadeep spoke quietly as not to be overheard. 

“That was all Jacob,” Elizabeth said, stopping to admire a flower stall. “But yes, it did go well.”

“Yes, Evie and I heard him telling The Rooks when we got back,” Jayadeep smiled. “You must’ve been asleep.”

“I was worn out,” she said pulling him along. “It was a long night Jayadeep.”

“But it’s over now,” he said, patting her hand affectionately where it lay in the crook of his arm. “And for now we’re free to enjoy this beautiful sunny day.”

Elizabeth smiled and squeezed Jayadeep’s arm gently; she couldn’t remember the last time they had spent time together like this and though Jayadeep was four years older than Elizabeth, he never acted that way.

Just as they were about to round a corner, the twins met them head on, Evie rosy cheeked and Jacob out of breath.

“What on Earth is going on?” Jayadeep questioned as he looked between the pair.

“Evie said it couldn’t bloody wait,” Jacob glared at his sister, his chest heaving with every breath he took as Elizabeth watched him curiously.

“I think I found the Piece of Eden,” Evie smiled. “But I’m going to need your help.”

“ _All_ of our help,” Jacob raised an eyebrow at Elizabeth.

“One night off from your shenanigans isn’t going to hurt, Jacob,” Evie glared back at him. “This is important.”

“I’d be happy to help,” Elizabeth said, breaking the tension between the siblings. “What did you discover?” 

“Miss Lucy Thorne is expecting a shipment tonight,” she explained. “She’s Moriarty’s expert in the occult. I’m nearly certain she is receiving the Piece of Eden Brewster mentioned.”

“Sounds fun,” Jayadeep smiled at Evie who blushed ever so slightly as Jacob and Elizabeth looked at one another. “Let us gather our things and get ready.”

\---

It was nightfall when Thorne received the shipment on a quiet street, the cart surrounded by guards as she watched them load it up. On a rooftop a few buildings away stood the four assassins carefully and quietly watching the scene.

“Whatever it is she’s after,” Evie said, stood beside Elizabeth as the men stood either side of them. “It’s in that chest.”

“There are gunmen on the rooftops,” Jayadeep observed. 

“Can you dispose of them before I reach the cart?” Evie asked.

“We were hoping for a challenge,” Jacob grouched before Elizabeth elbowed him in the side to the amusement of Jayadeep and even his sister. 

“Just go,” Elizabeth gave him a shove and Jayadeep followed after the pair to take out the gun men as Evie made her way towards the cart. 

Jacob however managed to disappear, leaving most of the work to Elizabeth and Jayadeep and even Evie, much to her disdain. When the Blighter’s were down, Jayadeep and Elizabeth joined Evie at the cart as she popped open the crate.

“Did you find it?” Jacob suddenly appeared, his voice a loud whisper.

“There he is!” came one of the voices from the brutes who was closely followed by Miss Thorne.

“What did you do Jacob!” Evie scalded him, her expression furious as Jayadeep and Elizabeth looked at one another.

“I think it’s best we leave,” Jacob said, hurrying to the front of the carriage to take the reigns. “It’s hardly the time for questions.”

The carriage jolted as Jacob whipped the horse and they found themselves followed by Blighter carriages. Pulling out their firearms and throwing knives, the three in the back took a side each and started to throw and fire at their enemies.

“So where’s your piece of Eden?” Jacob shouted over the noise.

“Get us out of this and I might find out!” Evie yelled back at him. 

More carriages followed them and guns popped off in every direction as the cart flew this way and that.

“If you really want to fight, come over here!” Jacob goaded to their enemies.

“Jacob!” both Evie and Elizabeth scalded him before catching one anothers eye with a slight smile.

“We need to get this crate back to a safe place!” Jayadeep shouted over the commotion.

“What do you think I’m trying to do!” Jacob yelled back. 

“At a guess,” Elizabeth said, firing a perfect headshot. “I’d say you’re trying to kill us all!”

“What are we supposed to do with papers?” Jacob shouted as they fought a Templar who’d climbed into the cart.

“Read them!” Elizabeth shouted back before she got walloped in the jaw.

“If only we had the time!” Jayadeep yelled as he held the Templar for Elizabeth to hit back before Evie threw him out.

As Jacob raced alongside the train track, he spotted the train coming up fast and more Blighter’s coming up even faster. 

“We’re going to have to jump!” he shouted.

“What about the chest?” Evie yelled back.

“Leave it!” Jacob stopped the cart and they all clambered out and onto the bridge where the train ran under. “Jump, now!”

Each of them landed with ease, Jacob laughing as he waved at the Templar’s left behind. Elizabeth found her feet with the aid of Jayadeep and Evie looked a little disappointed.

“You have the book,” Elizabeth reassured her. “That’s better than nothing.”

“You’re right,” Evie nodded. “Thank you for your help.”

“Not a problem,” she smiled in reply before she watched her and Jayadeep clamber down the carriage to the warm confines of the inside. 

She turned then to Jacob who had his back to her before she did a running tackle, turned him over and pinned him to the roof with a thud.

Jacob’s eyes were wide with surprise as he saw Elizabeth’s gauntlet raised, the tip of the blade glinting in the pale moonlight.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t maim you right here and now for your stupid and idiotic actions,” she growled. “You could have killed us all!”

Though Elizabeth was a lot lighter than Jacob and couldn’t exactly pin him properly, he laid perfectly still beneath her and made no effort to lower her concealed blade; he knew he’d been stupid, knew Evie would be furious with him for a good three days, knew Greenie wouldn’t be too happy but he’d thought Elizabeth would have enjoyed his antics.

“I don’t have one,” he said simply. 

With a defeated sigh, Elizabeth lowered her arm but she didn’t get off of him; her eyes were boring a hole into his face with the toxic look she was giving him. 

Then Jacob noticed, as the train slowed to pass through an almost dead station in the lamp light that lit the place, the flourishing bruise on the underside of Elizabeth’s jaw. It was a sickly brown with pale yellows that would surely fade into purples and blacks.

“You’re hurt,” he said, his brow knitting in confusion. 

“The Templar that got into the carriage,” she said looking away from him. “Hit me with the tip of his cane. Lucky strike.”

Leaning up, Jacob reached to her face, his palm gently lingering on the bruise as he turned her face back to his. The toxic look on her face was softening slightly but he could see she was still angry. 

In a second, Jacob had turned the tables and he was on top of her but she pushed him off and scowled at him before pulling herself up. 

“You really are mad at me,” he said as he stood. 

Elizabeth merely raised a brow and climbed inside the carriage where she found Evie and Jayadeep sitting very close together, looking over the book that Evie had found.

“Everything alright?” Evie asked. “We heard a thud.”

“It’s fine,” Elizabeth gave a nod. “Goodnight.”

“He’s reckless, Elizabeth,” Evie called after her as she walked away. “But he means well.”  
\---  
It was only a short while after that Jacob followed her. She was sat in his winged back chair fiddling with her throwing knives when he joined her in his carriage, his brow still furrowed over his hazel eyes. 

She was missing her coat and belt, even her boots were thrown in a corner. Her sleeves were rolled up at mismatched angles and her usually neatly pinned up hair fell in long, dark, loose waves that Jacob had a hard time looking away from. 

“I apologise,” Jacob said, standing by the door with his head hung. “I didn’t mean for you to get hurt.”

She didn’t answer him, but she watched him as he stared at the floor; she’d never seen him look so human. 

As he looked up, her eyes dropped back to the throwing knife in her hand and he walked over, kneeling in front of the chair as he removed his hat.

“Oh come on, love,” he almost begged. “Talk to me; please don’t be mad at me. We can’t do our missions like this can we, eh?”

Elizabeth was cruelly enjoying this; she’d forgiven him before she’d come back inside, she saw the upset in his face at the bruise on her jaw and that really hadn’t even been his fault, it was just a lucky strike.

Without looking at him, she placed the throwing knife to one side and took his hat from his hands and set that aside too. 

Elizabeth had never been in love, never felt the feeling of a first kiss and never had the affection of a relationship. She’d liked Jayadeep in her younger years; he was a handsome, foreign young man who was intelligent and interesting with a heart of gold, but she was taught not to feel those things.

_Don’t allow personal feelings to compromise the mission._

With Jacob it was different. He was dangerous, charismatic, sarcastic and witty. He was handsome in a roguish way and cheeky beyond compare. She was drawn to him; she might have been forced to work with him to begin with, but now she couldn’t stand not to and she hated that disappointed look upon his face right now, the look that suggested that he might have let her down.

“Oh do stop pouting Frye,” she said, leaning down to him and taking his face between her hands. “It really doesn’t suit you.”

Though Elizabeth had no experience with matters of the heart, she was fairly sure she wanted to kiss him and not in Jacobs _tit for tat_ way. 

Jacobs eyes darted about her face, his brow relaxed as he leant up to her, his hands on the arm rests of the chair, caging her in; there was no backing out now. 

He felt her thumb trace the scar on his cheek before she looked at the one on his eyebrow then looked back at those beautiful hazel eyes that were glancing at the bruise on her jaw. He leant forwards, lips ghosting over the damage before he kissed the corner of her mouth and pulled back, gauging her reaction. 

The half irritated look on her face told him that he should have carried on and with a sly grin, he leant forwards again but she pushed him back so that he was on the floor of the carriage. Crawling over to him, she sat herself in his lap and kissed along his stubbled jaw line until she met his lips, kissing the same corner of his lips that he’d kissed on her. 

With half lidded eyes, Jacob looked down at her as she pushed off his coat and laid her arms around his shoulders. Threading her fingers through his dark, tousled hair she claimed his lips, soft and gentle at first.

But when it came to Jacobs turn he held her close and he held her tight, winding his hand through her long, beautiful hair as he parted her lips with his tongue. It wasn’t a long kiss, but it was heated and when Jacob pulled back, he saw the fire in her eyes.

A smirk took over his features as he pushed her hair over her ear and gently kissed at her neck, his hot breath sending a spike of anticipation down her spine as she toyed with his hair. 

“We ought to sleep, love,” he mumbled into her shoulder as she drew patterns on his back that made him shiver. “It’s late and no doubt there’s work for us to do tomorrow.”

“No doubt your sister will be busy with the book she found,” she said pulling herself away from Jacob. “Jayadeep too.”

“Then I shall have you all to myself,” Jacob smirked as he stood and pulled her towards him. 

“That you will, Mister Frye,” she smiled, kissing his cheek before pulling him to the bed. “That you will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> good morning/afternoon my lovely readers!
> 
> unfortunately i am back at work tomorrow so it might be a week (perhaps less depending how busy i am!) until i update again :( i tried to write something a little longer and something that involves all of them too! part of the next chapter will focus solely on Evie and Greenie, Jacob and Elizabeth are perhaps taking the day off from their main duties (by which I mean, they're going to go do the little side missions while Evie and Greenie head over to Kenway Mansion.)
> 
> Thank you for all your support, comments, kudos etc is always welcome and I promise I'll update as soon as I can!


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